We Are Broken
by DreamShadows
Summary: Exorcizing a powerful demon with you mind’ll do that to yah, he guessed. Limp!Sam AU from the end of 'It's the Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester.' R
1. Chapter 1

Okay, so I can't believe I haven't posted since September!! Everything's been so crazy around here, with work and classes, and I haven't really had much time to write more than a few pages…

Then I had a free night and started rereading Phx's stories, getting back into the old series… And let's just say that this story is a mixture of her fault and 'It's the Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester' so this story is dedicated to Phx…

This is NOT beta'ed...

And because there is no off-switch, this will be limp!Sam…

Disclaimer: I own nothing, Sam would be in big trouble if I did…

Enjoy

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_I am outside  
And I've been waiting for the sun  
With my wide eyes  
I've seen worlds that don't belong  
My mouth is dry with words I cannot verbalize  
Tell me why we live like this_

_-Paramore, We Are Broken_

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He never got used to this. The feeling of a hunt as it was going wrong. The mixture of fear and disappointment blending to the point where you couldn't tell where one began and the other ended.

He didn't know why, but ever since Dean had come back from hell, every time he got the feeling, it seemed to hit him harder than it had before Dean had died. The fact that Dean had given up everything for him, and then come back, only to see Sam fail, seemed to hurt all that much harder than it had before.

So even as he saw Dean hovering in the doorway behind Samhain, he could feel the guilt and hurt building in him. Even as he continued using his powers in an effort to send the demon back to hell, he wished he could ask Dean for forgiveness.

The pain hit him hard and fast, tunneling between his temples and warm blood from his nose, as his arm shook from the effort to hold off the demon. Black smoke flowed from the man's nose and mouth as the demon was pulled from its host, and Sam groaned at the energy it was taking from him.

As he dropped to his knees after Samhain's dead host fell dead to the floor, it was tearing at him that he had let Dean down. That he had used his powers, even though he had told Dean he wouldn't.

The dark void that swallowed him as he fell forward toward the hard cement held no comfort for him, and Dean's scream of his name as he faded from consciousness ripped him to shreds.

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Dean had seen the pain on Sam's face as he telekinetically exorcised the demon. But even through the pain on his little brother's face, he could see the guilt lining his eyes as he glanced to Dean in the doorway. It ate at him that Sam would think Dean would look down on him if he used his powers as a last resort.

The only thing that Dean worried about was Sam overusing his abilities and going darkside. That the angels would smite him despite the fact that Sam wasn't using the demon tainted abilities for dark, only to help fight the good fight.

But as he watched the demon being drawn from its host, Sam's right hand outstretched, his arm strained, his left hand holding his forehead in pain, as blood dripped from his nose, Dean was in a mixture of awe and concern. The demon was being exorcised by Sam's _mind_!

Then the demon was gone, its host dead on the ground, and Sam was dropping to his knees. He looked up at Dean, his eyes begging for some kind of forgiveness. Then Sam was falling. His hand dropped from his head, and his eyes rolled back, the lids closing as the rest of his body went slack on its journey to the ground.

Dean called out and ran for him, catching him half way down, and going to his knees to support the dead weight, pliant in his arms. The position was way too similar to the one he and Sam had held in Cold Oak, and Dean had to suppress a shiver.

Sam's head lolled into the crick of his neck, and drew him from the memory, the warm stickiness of blood seeping through the shoulder of Dean's tee. He moved his hands from their position on Sam's back and up to his neck, drawing away a little to look at Sam's face.

The pale face was marred with dark under eye circles and smeared blood. Permanent pain lines seemed to be embedded into the skin around his eyes and mouth, even in unconsciousness.

All in all, his brother looked like crap.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Dean slid his hand around to cup Sam's neck, steadying his head enough for Dean to tap his cheek in an attempt to wake him up. "Sam?" he called, frowning when Sam didn't so much as twitch at the sound of his name. He shook Sam's shoulder this time, and called again, "Sammy?" The call was louder this time, Dean hoping that Sam would wake and correct the name.

Sam didn't move, his face and body remaining slack.

Dean sighed to himself, turning so he could lay Sam flat on his back on the cold concrete below them. He carefully looked Sam over for any hidden injuries, finding a knot at the back of his head and bruises lining his right side, both of which must have come from his fight with Samhain before he had turned to using his powers to bail him and everyone else out.

Dean winced in sympathy at the darkening bruises lining his side, knowing that his brother was going to have some kind of trouble with his side and back in the upcoming days. The knot on the back of his head didn't seem serious enough for anything major, and after checking Sam's eyes and finding no evidence of dilation or sluggishness, Dean concluded that although he would have the headache from hell, the head wound wasn't major.

Added to his physical injuries, there was no way to overlook the blood covering Sam's upper lip and chin. Although Dean had seen visions with mind splitting headaches in his time, and had heard about the one off spout of telekinesis, he had never actually seen or heard of his brother getting bloody noses from using his abilities.

Something must have tweaked in his mind when he was exorcizing Samhain, he must have been more powerful that what Sam was used too, and Dean worried if he was too powerful for Sam to take on without causing himself damage. If Sam continued his period of unconsciousness, Dean would have no doubt Sam had taken on something above himself. As it was the longer his brother remained dead to the world, the more worried Dean got.

By the time five minutes had passed, Dean was in full on big brother mode, not knowing what to do to help his brother. By the time another moment had passed he was debating on whether or not to call Ruby, to see what had happened with Sam's abilities while he had been gone.

When another few minutes went by, he sucked in a breath and called out for the demon that had been a royal pain in his ass for a year until he had died, and unknowingly had kept pushing even when he had croaked.

One second he was alone with Sam unconscious at his side, and the next the brunette host Ruby had been occupying was in front of him with her perpetual look of annoyance lining her face.

"What do you need Short-Bus?" She asked, the same annoyance on her face now lacing her voice. Then she saw Sam.

Ruby was by his side in an instant, kneeling down and reaching for him. The move made a growl force its way through Dean's lips in warning. She backed off, but just barely, staring at Dean in wonder that he would push her away even as she was trying to help.

"Easy Dean, I just wanna see how bad he overworked himself." Her tone was placating, and though it was supposed to help, it wore on Dean's already frayed nerves.

"What exactly do you mean, "overworked himself"?" Dean asked, his voice pitched low into dangerous levels. Ruby held back a flinch and a groan of frustration, wondering just how much Dean knew about Sam's powers, and the time he and Ruby had spent training.

"I mean, how much more did he take on than he knew he could handle." The sarcasm still lined her voice, but it wasn't as harsh as it could have been.

"He took on Samhain," Dean said quietly after a moment, and watched as the color drained from Ruby's face. "What? How bad is this?" Dean asked, not bothering to keep the panicked note from his words.

"Sam's only ever taken on a demon as strong as Samhain, once." She was quiet for a moment, thinking back on the first time Sam had taken on that demon. "He was out for almost three days with a hell of a fever, and even after he made it through that, headaches crippled him for almost a week." She looked him straight in the eyes and added, "The fever got pretty high Dean, he almost didn't pull through it."

It was Dean's turn to blanch.

"So this could kill him?" Dean's words were strangled and forced.

She raised her hands to calm him a little. "Sam was really untrained when he took on that other demon, so I'm hoping that it won't be as bad this time around, now that he has more experience." The last six words were said with an air of superiority, and it snapped the last of Dean's patience.

"He wouldn't even be in this situation if it wasn't for your training!" He yelled, his concern for his little brother notching the anger that much higher.

"No you're right; he wouldn't be in this situation. He would be _dead_!" Ruby yelled back, and Dean recoiled back as if he had been struck. "Sam was hunting on his own, Dean, no one at his back, and without his powers to get him out of some bad hunts, he would have died." Her voice softened at the end, seeing distress lining Dean's features.

They both looked back to Sam, the youngest Winchester had yet to move, and if anything his pallor had gotten worse in the time Dean and Ruby had been talking. The blood had dried and crusted over his lips and chin, and the pinched expression still lined his eyes and mouth.

"We should get him out of here. Someplace warm and protected, before the repercussions start." Ruby said, effectively cutting through his thoughts. Though he didn't like her, or trust her for that matter, he knew she was right and he nodded.

"Yeah," he said, standing and reaching down to draw Sam over his shoulders. "Let's get him out of here." Jostling Sam into place behind his neck, making sure he had a tight hold and that Sam wasn't going to fall.

_Let's get you someplace safe, Sammy._

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A/N: So I hope you all liked this, it being my first fic in a while… Let me know.

Take care, and review often,

DS


	2. Chapter 2

Hey guys… Looks like I'm on a roll with my writing now… two chapters in less than a week, and I'm all caught up with my papers!!! Oh my, this is a confusing time for me… No class work due and my muse returned to me. : ) Hope you all are enjoying this pleasant turn of events as much as I am!

I was just a wee bit overwhelmed with the response to this story, and I'm very grateful that people are liking this and reviewing. It's nice to know that even though it's been a while, I still have my old readers and new ones joining the bandwagon.

Onto chapter 2… Enjoy!

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'_If I can feel again  
Will you tell me now  
Or wait til I'm broken down again  
Save me now  
I'm broken'_

_-Sevendust, Broken Down_

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Carrying Sam to the car, then to the motel room, and finally to the farthest bed in their motel room was not as easy as most people write in their stories. Sam was a big guy in general, add the layers and muscles, and the fact that he was a dead weight, and made him nigh on impossible to carry.

Despite all that, Dean did manage to get Sam into the room, and into bed.

Just as he was unlacing Sam's boots, Ruby popped in again, startling Dean. He jerked just a little too hard on the boot in his hand, and it came off easily, sending Dean from his crouched position onto his butt.

Pain shot up his tail bone from his landing on the thinly carpeted floor, and Dean scowled.

Watching him fall, Ruby laughed and asked, "Did I scare ya, Dean?" Her tone mocked him, and Dean scowled again before looking back to Sam, and starting on his other boot. Ruby sobered as she too turned to look at Sam, and walked over to the brother, keeping her eyes on Sam as Dean levered off his other boot and stood.

"What do you want?" Dean asked tired, glancing at her before turning back to look at his pale brother.

"Here," Ruby answered simply, holding out her hands. In the appendages lay extra strength Tylenol, wash cloths, and hot water bottles. Dean looked at her hands, and then up to her face in confusion, not knowing why she was helping them as she was.

"What-?" He started to ask, but she cut him off before he could finish the inquiry.

"You're out of Tylenol, and compresses and hot water bottles seemed to comfort him last time." Dean flinched at the thought of the last time, the time when he wasn't there to help his brother through the pain and sickness.

_Though,_ he mused idly, _if I had been here, Sam wouldn't have been in that situation to begin with._

He cut himself from those thoughts, and looked back to Ruby, nodding and taking the supplies from her hands. As he took the supplies, she turned to walk away.

"Make sure you get the water and the Gatorade from the car, you'll need it; he'll get dehydrated easily." He nodded and she added, "If you need help, call me." She sounded calm and passive, but Dean saw the worry on her face, and knew it was for Sam.

_When did demons start sharing and caring?_ Dean internally snarked.

The elder Winchester shook his head and turned to set the supplies on the lone, rickety, motel room table before heading back to Sam. A fine sheen of sweat glazed his brother's too pale skin, and fine tremors shook his lanky frame.

Dean's hand shook as he reached to run his fingers through Sam's dampened, too long hair, and he stilled as he felt the heat radiating from the skin underneath his fingers. Leaving his hand there for a moment, Dean tried to figure out what to do.

He had seen his brother sick before, had helped him through it every time he had been there, but from what Ruby had told him, he didn't know if he had ever seen Sam as sick as he was going to get.

Shaking his head and sighing, Dean moved onto the next task of getting Sam undressed and into a comfortable pair of sweats and a tee shirt. He pulled off the dirty jeans as gently as he could and slipped a pair of Sam's Stanford sweats over his bare legs.

Just as he was pulling a clean shirt over his brother's head, a harsh shiver shook Sam's body, pronounced enough that he noticed it even through the tremors that already ran through his large frame. Dean laid Sam back down and covered him with the motel's flowered comforter.

Walking over to the table, Dean picked up the hot water bottles and went about readying them in the bathroom, before making his way back over to Sam, and regretfully pulling the covers back down. Settling a bottle securely next to each side, Dean then lifted his brother's head and positioned another bottle and a pillow beneath Sam's neck so the younger man would be comfortable.

Looking back to the table, Dean spotted the Tylenol and walked over to grab it before grabbing a foam cup from beside the coffee maker and filling it with water from the bathroom faucet. Returning to his brother's side, Dean sat lightly on the side of the bed and put the water on the nightstand, keeping a firm grip around the Tylenol in his hand.

"Sam?" Dean called, shaking his brother's shoulder in an attempt to rouse him. Sam's forehead creased in annoyance, but other than that, his brother didn't show any signs of waking. Sighing, Dean called out to him again and shook his shoulder a little harder, grinning when his brother cracked his bleary eyes open to look at him.

"Dean- what?" The confusion was evident in the younger Winchester's tone and eyes, and Dean's worry upped a notch.

"You're a little sick, Sammy." Dean soothed, not even noticing how his voice softened in response to his brother's alarm. Sam's confusion didn't fade, in fact the fear in his eyes intensified and Dean put a hand on his neck, a move that had always calmed Sam when he was little.

"Shh, Sammy, you're okay. I'm here, I'm not going anywhere. I won't let anything happen to you." _I hope._ The fear faded and Sam's eyes closed as he nodded.

"Tired," he whisper, already drifting. Hating to do it, but knowing he had to, Dean shook Sam again, making sure he stayed awake.

"What?" Sam asked, clearly confused and a little irritated.

"Not so fast, little brother, I need you to take some Tylenol and then you can go back to sleep." _More like unconsciousness._ Dean mentally added with a frown.

Sam's eyes opened again, and he pulled his arms back to try and lever himself up. Seeing the unsteadiness in those arms, Dean pulled his hand from Sam's neck and guided him up, keeping hold of the younger man as he handed Sam then pills and reached for the water. Sam put the pills on his tongue and reached to take the cup from Dean, but the shaking in his hands was enough for Dean to press the cup to his lips instead.

"Thanks," Sam breathed after he had finished the water, and Dean was helping him to lie back down. His hand found its previous spot on the side of Sam's neck, and rested there as his brother watched him through heavily lidded eyes.

"It's no problem Sammy, get some sleep." Dean's voice was soft, the suggestion more of a soft command and Sam nodded, already drifting.

Dean stayed there, just watching Sam for a while after he had fallen asleep. His hand stayed where it was, the gesture more of a comfort to Dean than Sam, the older man suspected, not knowing what he would do when the sickness got worse.

He knew he should get the compress, but his body seemed to have settled next to Sam, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't force himself to move away from his brother. As long as he was there watching him, feeling his pulse beneath his palm, Sam was still with him, but without the steady throb and warm skin under his hand, Dean feared he would lose his control.

_C'mon little brother, pull through this._

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A/N: Oh man, I really have to hide the Jolly Ranchers, I smell like watermelon and my writing is getting fruitier by the second. *Slaps her palm to her forehead.* Not to mention they give me a sugar high every time…

Anyway, hope you all liked.

Take care and review often,

DS


	3. Chapter 3

Hey guys!!

I am so happy right now… You guys seem to be loving the story, and telling someone that they're doing something right, always makes you feel good.

With that said, I am sorry to say that I ran out of Jolly Ranchers, so this chapter isn't as fruity… I don't think.

So anyways, I hope you all like this chapter…

Happy reading.

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_How did we get here?  
I use to know you so well  
How did we get here?  
Well, I think I know_

_Paramore, Decode_

XXXX

Dean had been sitting on the edge of his bed, _not_ watching Sam as he slept. He _wasn't_ keeping watch over every stuttered breath, or the sweat that had glazed his skin in the last four hours. And he definitely was _not_ worrying himself into exhaustion over said little brother.

No Dean wasn't doing any of those things, he turned to the tv, no he was watching… _what the hell? General Hospital?_ Quickly reaching for the remote, Dean changed the channel to a football game, yeah he was watching a manly football game, and not watching his little brother sleep.

_Who the hell am I kidding?_

Dean looked back to Sam, and then to the old fashioned alarm clock on the bedside table between them. Seeing _3:26_ flash back at him, and looking out the window to see it was indeed three thirty in the morning, Dean scrubbed a hand over his face, sighed and stood.

_It's time for your medicine, Sammy-boy._

Heading for the bathroom, and filling a cup with water, then grabbing the Tylenol again, Dean walked back to Sam. As he stood watching, Sam let out little whimpers, and moans, whether from the fever or pain, Dean didn't know, and he didn't want to find out.

Sitting on the edge of Sam's bed, Dean put the cup on the stand and turned back to his brother. He reached out a shaking hand and gently shook Sam's shoulder. The younger man moaned, but made no move to open his eyes, and Dean had to fight not to recoil from the heat coming from Sam's skin. If he had to hazard a guess, he would definitely say that Sam's fever had gotten worse.

Dean pushed away everything in his mind, and shook Sam again, harder this time, concern making his movements jerky and harsher than they had been before. Sam's eyes cracked open and he groaned, trying to roll away from Dean and his offending hand.

Dean kept his grip firm and pulled Sam back around to face him, concerned over the confusion etched in Sam's dark eyes. It was like he didn't know who Dean was, or where he was. Dean's head involuntarily tipped to the side and his thumb rubbed unconscious circles on Sam's collar bone.

"Sam?" softly, Dean tried to calm his brother, tried to get him to see that he was safe, that Dean wasn't going to let anything happen to him.

"D'n?" Sam asked, voice thick and hoarse.

"Yeah, Sammy, it's me." Dean turned to grab the Tylenol, but Sam's hand shot up to grab the one Dean had on his shoulder. He gripped Dean's wrist with surprising strength, given the fact he was sick, and confused.

"Wha' happened?" Panic laced through his voice, and Sam's eyes bore into his.

Turning back to Sam, Dean wrapped his own fingers around the hand Sam was gripping his wrist with, and squeezed. "You're just a little sick right now, Sammy."

"Oh." The look on Sam's face told Dean his little brother didn't really believe what Dean was telling him.

"You overdid it with Samhain, and everything's just catching up with you right now. You just need to rest and take it easy, and you'll be okay. Okay?" Dean intentionally kept his voice soft, trying to calm Sam.

"Okay." The answer was simple, and Dean felt warmed at the simple trust Sam had in his big brother.

"Okay." Dean breathed to himself more than Sam, turning back to the table and grabbing the Tylenol. He shook Sam's hand off his wrist and turned it face up, placing the white oblong pills in it, before reaching back to get the glass of water.

Sam's hand curled around the pills and his pushed both hands into the bed to push himself up onto his elbows. He raised the pills to his mouth and threw them in before reaching to take the water from Dean.

His hand shook and the water sloshed, enough so that Dean took notice and wrapped his hand around Sam's to steady him. Sam took a few tepid sips before pushing the cup back towards Dean, exhaustion written clearly in his features. Dean took the cup and Sam sank back into the bed, asleep almost before his head hit the pillows.

"You'll be okay Sammy." _You have to be._ Dean set his hand on the top of Sam's head and Sam leaned into the touch, his face relaxing all the more, as he settled deeper into sleep.

Sighing, Dean stood, his back cracking in protest. He lifted his hand from Sam's forehead and grabbed the wash cloth from the table before walking to the bathroom and running the tap until it was cold. Dean ran the cloth under the tap before shutting off the water and wringing it out.

Walking back into the room, he folded the cloth and placed it on Sam's forehead, his brother unconsciously flinching away from the cold before settling.

Walking over to his own bed, Dean stretched, working the kinks from his body. He stripped down to his boxers and a tee before setting the alarm on his phone to wake him when it was time for Sam to take more Tylenol. Sitting on his bed, he reached over and grabbed the knob on the lamp. Looking over to Sam once more, he was satisfied to see his brother sleeping comfortably, and switched off the lamp.

Closing his eyes, Dean laid back and sunk into sleep, his training allowing him to keep it light so he would know if something happened with Sammy.

_Goodnight little brother._

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He was on fire.

There was no other way to describe what Sam Winchester was feeling other than the fact that he had to be on fire. The heat was stifling, consuming his entire being, choking him with its intensity.

He moaned, tossing his head to the side, even as he fought to get out of whatever bound him in place. Twisting onto his side, he jerked his legs out, freeing his left leg from its confines before working the rest of his body free.

The cold air hit him like a shock, rapidly cooling the sweat that had formed all over his body and had stuck his shirt to his upper back and chest. It chilled him, but didn't seem to affect the fire that raged through his veins.

Vaguely he recalled talking to Dean, his older brother saying something about him being sick, but the explanation drifted away and out of his grasp.

He finally opened his eyes and swung his legs off of the bed. He didn't know where he was going, all he knew was he needed to get away from the fire.

Sam stood, his head swimming at the abrupt motion, spots forming in his vision even as dizziness took hold. His knees buckled, and Sam fell, crumpling to the side, and clipping his head on the table on the way down.

As the dark encroached on his vision once more, his mind was screaming.

_Dean!_

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A/N: So I hope you all enjoyed, let me know.

Take care and review often.

DS


	4. Chapter 4

Hey guys… sorry this one took a little longer than a week. Things have been getting more hectic as finals get closer, and then I got tickets to go see the midnight premier of Twilight… Which if you read the book, I wouldn't recommend you spend your money to see it in theaters. If you haven't read the book, you would probably like it… But hey, the music was beautiful throughout, and the preview for the sixth Harry Potter was shown, so it was worthwhile, I guess.

Anyway, thank you guys for your reviews. I love seeing each one of them show up in my inbox!!!

And hey, did you all know that they still made War Heads? I swear my face is going to stay puckered if I eat anymore of them.

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'_I know I've been this place before  
I only come here after dark  
I step on through the open door  
And take the path that I must walk  
In my dreams I walk with you  
The silence of the waking world  
In my dreams I talk with you  
And then forget all that I've heard'_

_Scanners – In My Dreams_

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Dean woke to a crash and a groan.

A distinct little brother groan that he had known all his life. That little bit of information snapped his eyes wide and set his senses on complete alert.

Pushing the blanket off himself and pulling the blade from beneath his pillow in one smooth motion, Dean jerked his head around, scanning the room for any danger. In the process of that search, he found Sam's bed rumpled and _empty._

_What the hell?_ The question popped unbidden into his mind, and Dean's brows furrowed, his face losing the look of deadly intensity as they found the room free of threats.

"Sam?" He called, voice hoarse from sleep, even as he slung his legs sideways from the bed to place them on the floor- and found his little brother instead. He jumped, feet scrunching back towards his chest, before he registered that his brother was unconscious on the floor, bump on the side of his upturned face, and throwing off heat like a radiator.

"Sammy?" He asked again, sliding the floor on his knees, being careful of the younger man.

He reached over and with strong, steady hands turned his brother so he was on his back, face turned toward the cracked plaster of the motel room ceiling. Sweat glistened over every unclothed part of his body, and the arm Dean was holding felt like it was burning, a kind of hot the human body should never be.

"Shit, Sam." Looking at the clock he found himself two hours short of his brother's next dose, but he knew he had to do something to get his brother's fever down, and if that didn't work, the ER was his next option.

After looking back down at Sam, Dean stood, heading for the bathroom. Grabbing the thermometer that rested precariously on the edge of the sink, he walked back into the room, dropping to his knees once more beside Sam.

As if waiting for that moment, Sam's body started jerking, his face screwing up in pain, even in unconsciousness.

Dean panicked.

Trying to remember what he had been taught, Dean, settled Sam onto his side and steadied his head, remembering not to try and restrain his brother. Once he had a firm hold on Sam, he called for Ruby, knowing without a doubt she would come.

Sure enough within a few seconds the brunette was standing in the room, irritation lining her every feature. When she saw Sam, the annoyance cleared and concern replaced it, even as she walked forward and knelt beside the younger Winchester.

"What happened?" She asked, trying and failing to find a place to put her hands.

"I was going to ask you the same question!" Dean half yelled. His worry and anger were merging together until he really didn't know what to do.

"This didn't happen last time!" She hadn't meant to yell, but the atmosphere seemed to call for it.

"That's it," Dean reached for his cell phone, flipping it open and pressing the nine before Ruby grabbed it from his hand.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"Getting him to the hospital, bitch. What are you doing?" He seethed.

"And just what do you think the hospital can do that you can't?" She asked as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "This isn't some normal sickness Dean. This is supernatural, and if you take him in like this, the next thing you know, the CDC will be called in, and you'll both be quarantined. What good will you be then?"

_Shit._

Though he had thought of the consequences of taking Sam to a hospital when the fever had first begun rising, but those thoughts had conveniently fled his mind when Sam had begun _convulsing_ on the damn floor.

"So Miss Know It All, what do you propose we do?" Dean growled, anger and concern mixing and coming out in a low snarl.

"Well if you quit your Mama bear imitation and listen, maybe we could figure something out." She growled back.

In the end, the bickering continued, even as between the two of them they got Sam to the bathroom. Ruby held the younger Winchester slumped halfway over her shoulder, while Dean ran the water until it was cold and turned the spray on. He motioned Ruby forward, and she dragged Sam under the spray, standing behind him with her arms wrapped around his stomach to steady him.

Sam gasped, and his eyes shot open as the water hit his skin. "Bur's" he stuttered, staggering back a step. Ruby held him steady, looking to Dean as he stared at his brother.

"Get him some dry clothes, Dean, go!" She urged, not wanting to get in between the brothers, but knowing that Sam did need the clothes, and that Dean needed to not see his baby brother like this.

Dean obeyed mechanically, walking stiffly out of the bathroom. She could hear the zipper being roughly torn back and scuffling as Dean searched through his brother's bag.

"Hurts," Sam whimpered, trying to turn away from the beating water. Ruby turned her attention back to him and kept him facing the spray, making shushing noises that she was sure another demon never would have made.

"Shh, Sam, I know it hurts. It will help you though." Keeping one hand around his stomach she reached up to thread her free hand through his wet hair. "Just calm down and let it help you." She soothed.

Sam shivered but stayed where he was, letting his head drop back onto her shoulder. Ruby stiffened, not knowing what to do. It had been centuries since anyone had turned to her for comfort and yet here was Sam Winchester trusting her to help him get through this.

She kept her hand in his hair and held him there, silently wishing that Dean would come back in soon.

As if hearing her thoughts, Dean walked back into the room with sweat and a tee, setting them on the sink before grabbing towels and crossing back to the shower. He stopped short seeing the position Ruby and Sam were in, before brushing it off, and shutting off the water.

Together Ruby and Dean got Sam out of the shower, undressed, dried, and in dry clothes. After that, Dean insisted on being the one to get Sam back to bed, while Ruby followed closely behind, making sure that Sam was okay.

She shivered in her wet clothes as she watched Dean take Sam's temperature, and feel his forehead. When she heard the breath of relief from the older Winchester, she smiled briefly before smoothing her features and saying, "Well, I'm going off to break into a pharmacy, you know how to reach me." With that she was gone.

Dean shook his head and looked back to Sam, shaking his head. "You humanized a demon Sammy-boy," smirking he squeezed Sam's shoulder, "only you little brother." When Sam didn't respond, he sighed and smiled sadly. "You better get through this Sammy." He said softly.

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A/N: So yes I know, shmoop it is…

Let me know.

Take care,

DS


	5. Chapter 5

Sorry guys… finals and holidays, you know the drill. I really do love all the reviews, and want to thank everyone who has displayed any interest in this story. I should be able to update within the week, but if I can't it's because I am seriously stressed and just a little overworked.

Thanks for all the support.

Happy reading.

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'_Sometimes it's hard to just keep going  
But faith is moving without knowing  
Can I trust what I can't see  
To reach my destiny  
I want to take control but I know better'_

_Fireflight – Unbreakable _

XXXXX

Sam fever had risen to dangerous levels during the night, and he had been delirious through most of the night and morning. He had seemed to think that everything, including big brother, was out to get him. He had also been mumbling about _fire_ and _pain_, but Dean couldn't make out most of those thoughts, and had to force himself to let it go until Sam was better, and more apt to talk to him without screaming or passing out.

So Dean had settled for keeping his brother as comfortable as he could, and as calm as Sam could manage, which wasn't as comfortable as Dean would have liked. Sam had tossed and moaned for hours, the fever raging through his helpless body.

Dean had held vigil over Sam through most of the night, a steadying hand anchoring him to the real world, while Sam shook and fought against the fever that plagued him. Dean had worried more than he thought was possible over Sam, knowing that he couldn't even risk taking his brother to a hospital, no matter how bad things got.

But Sam had kept fighting, and Dean had stayed by his side. The last time he had looked at the clock it had been four thirty, and shortly after that, Dean had laid his head down on the edge of Sam's bed and drifted off, still gripping Sam's arm.

XXXXX

When Dean woke the next morning, make that afternoon, he was relieved that Sam hadn't gone and tried to do anything else. His brother was still asleep next to him, his arms and legs askew, face pinched in pain.

Sweat no longer glazed his skin and the bright pink that had highlighted his cheeks that night before had lessened.

Laying the back of his fingers across Sam's forehead, Dean was happy to feel that although it wasn't gone all together, Sam's fever had lowered. His brother was still pale and from the lines around his mouth and eyes, he was obviously in pain, but if his temperature was any indication, he was getting better.

Moving his hand from his brother's forehead to his shoulder, Dean gently shook the younger man. Sam groaned at the motion, and tried to turn away from him, but Dean held him steady, thankful that all he had needed was the little shake to rouse Sam.

"C'mon Sammy, time to wake up," Dean cooed, doing his best mom impression.

XXXXX

"You do that a little too well," Sam groaned, but kept his eyes shut, screwing them tight against the light and the spiking pain in his head. He frowned, turning his head away from the open window, and Dean as if sensing what was wrong, stood.

"Light?" he asked, already moving for the window.

"Yeah," Sam nodded, wincing at the motion. He swallowed hard against the encroaching bile, and squeezed his eyes tighter, trying to rid himself of the jabbing pain.

There was a click and then Sam heard the blinds sliding down. He heard Dean's footsteps, moving to the other side of the window and pulling the blinds closed. The light piercing through his lids lessened, and Sam cracked his tearing eyes open a sliver.

"D'n?" He asked, rolling his head toward his brother, watching as his blurry form came closer until he was right in front of Sam.

"Hey Sammy," his brother's voice was barely a whisper, and even with the pain pounding in his head, Sam could hear the worry.

"Wha' happened?" he asked, his own voice no more than a whisper, yet the pain spiked anew.

"You took down a pretty major demon with that head of yours, and have been pretty out of it since then." Dean settled a hand on his shoulder, and Sam couldn't explain why the relief that single touch had.

"How long?" he asked, coughing.

"Just last night and through the morning, not long." _You scared me._ The tone was evident and Sam caught the message loud and clear. "Ruby came," Sam shot his gaze to his brother and immediately groaned, the pain in his head worsening, but Dean must have seen the question because he sighed and added, "She helped, told me it had happened before." _Why didn't you tell me?_

"Y'never asked." Dean snorted, and let it go for the moment, but from his expression, Sam could tell he was going to have to talk later.

"How bad's the headache?" Sam shot him a look asking how he knew, and Dean smirked. "Our resident demon told me."

_Oh. Shit. Well that explains it._

"S'okay." Sam mumbled, closing his eyes again as Dean gave him a disbelieving look.

"So in other words, your head is killing you." Sam's lips quirked at that and Dean smiled, getting up to get Sam something for his head. "You scared the crap out of me Sammy." He said softly. "At least it didn't get as bad as Ruby told me it did last time." Sam opened his eyes again as Dean nudged his hand, placing two small white pills in it.

"Yeah," Sam whispered, tossing the pills back, knowing it was codeine just from the shape and size. "Thanks."

"No problem." Dean watched as his brother's eyes slid shut almost against their will, and Dean squeezed his shoulder, "get some sleep Sammy." He said softly.

"Hmm." Dean snorted, and smiled, leaving his hand on Sam's shoulder until his brother fell asleep.

XXXXX

A/N: Sorry its short, but so is my time… Hope you liked

Take care,

DS


	6. Chapter 6

Hey guys, hope your holidays are going well!!! Sorry this one took so long, I went straight from my last final to my sister's house in Boston, then to my other sister's place in New Hampshire, then to my parents with my brother… So this has kind of been a hectic time.

Now there was only supposed to be one more chapter to this, but it kind of took on a life of its own, and has now forced my muse on a different track. I swear it's got her at pen point…

So now that I officially have no idea where this is going (well maybe just a little clue as to its track)… I hope you all still follow this story with me…

Happy Reading.

XXXX

'_I will sacrifice  
I will sacrifice  
All I have in life  
To clear my conscience'_

_Tatu – Sacrifice_

XXXX

"Eat, Samantha, we don't need you getting sick again." Sam scowled and kept moving the burger he had torn apart around the plate with his fork. The fries had been demolished first, Sam's stomach too queasy to even think about the prospect of eating anything.

"Not hungry." He mumbled, not even bothering to put any fight into his words.

Truthfully, Sam hadn't been hungry since he had woken two days before, only forcing down food when Dean got on his case. This time though, he wasn't sure if he _could_ force himself to eat anything without bringing it back up.

Not to mention the ever spiking headache, that hadn't dulled in the least since he had exorcized Samhain. The nosebleeds that he had been hiding from Dean also couldn't have been a good sign.

Little bursts of telekinesis had also been forcing themselves out of his body, bringing with them fresh spikes of pain throughout his body.

His time before with Ruby hadn't left him this way, and Sam was left wondering just what had been different this time. His body and his mind were obviously changing, and something had happened that made it more difficult for him to use his powers.

That same something had also been letting his powers loose without his permission and with pain to accompany them.

The only thing that he could think of that had changed since he had exorcized the other demon was Dean being there.

Dean hadn't been there the first time Sam had gone down after exorcizing a powerful demon, only Ruby had known, only she had helped him through it. That part at least had been his fault, ignoring calls from Joshua, Bobby, and any other hunter that had called to help or give him their condolences about Dean.

It had gotten so bad that Sam had thrown his phone up against a wall one day, and the wall had won, his phone shattering to pieces. He had left it in the motel room he had been staying at, not wanting anything to do with it, and not wanting someone to be able to track him from the SIM chip or the number.

He knew Dean's number well enough that he could dial it without his contact list, just to hear the reassuring tone of his voice on his older brother's voicemail.

But then again, maybe it wasn't Dean that was making this time so much worse than the time before. Maybe his powers were changing, getting stronger.

Maybe he was like a light bulb or a star, burning its brightest before it went out.

Either way, Sam didn't know what was happening, and that _scared_ him.

"Hey," Dean said, laying a hand on his shoulder, effectively drawing him from the past. "Where'd you go little brother?" Dean asked with a laugh, but Sam could hear and see the undertone of worry.

"Nowhere, just thinking." Sam said, and then with a smirk added, "It's a lot more interesting in my thoughts than here with you." Dean looked appropriately affronted and Sam chuckled, trying to ignore the way the motion made the pain worsen.

"I try to be nice, and this is the thanks I get?" Dean waved his hands around Sam's direction, sarcasm dripping from every word, but Sam saw his brother's eyes lighten, probably figuring that if Sam was making fun of him, then everything was okay.

"You opened yourself right up for that one," Sam laughed, again holding back a wince when the motion spiked pain through his head and worsened the nausea.

"Yeah," Dean snarked back, running his eyes over Sam in a cursory glance before looking back to his own meal. Just the smell of the chili cheese fries made Sam want to vomit.

Sam smiled, and Dean only caught the quirk of lips on a glance, not noticing that the smile didn't reach Sam's eyes. He smiled and turned his attention back to his meal and scanned over the paper splayed in front of him.

XXXX

Later when they were in the motel room, with Sam laying on the bed, an arm thrown across his eyes to block out the residual light from the computer, Dean watched his brother from his position at the little table near the bathroom.

He had seen how Sam had been deteriorating over the past few days, and it scared him to see his little brother that way. He had been debating on whether or not to take Sam in to a doctor, but the one time he had tried to voice that opinion, Sam had immediately shot it down.

He just didn't know what to do.

Sam wasn't acting like he had before Dean had gone to hell, he was more likely to keep things cooped inside than to go all emo now. That little detail made the whole big brother thing that much harder, and though Dean had only been back for just over a month and a half, he was at his wit's end with Sam.

"Hey Sammy, you hungry?" He asked after looking at the clock and finding it close to six thirty at night, and knowing that even though they had eaten lunch a little after one that afternoon, Sam hadn't eaten enough in the last few days to keep a man half his size alive.

"No," the plaintive groan was muffled by the arm over his face, but Dean could hear the underlying tension in Sam's voice that usually meant a headache and a bad one at that.

_God, when will he get a break?_

Dean sighed and scrubbed a calloused hand over his face. "Sam," he warned, the only warning that Sam would get. Dean was in full _I'm-older-and-you-will-listen-to-me_ mode.

"No, Dean." Sam said softly, lifting his arm off his face and using it along with his other to prop himself up on his elbows, facing Dean. "I don't think you get the fact that I'm not choosing not to eat, I just can't keep anything down." His voice caught and broke on the last word, and Dean was immediately up and moving toward him.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked, settling on the side of the bed beside Sam.

Sam turned to look up at him, his overgrown puppy of a brother looking for all the world like someone had kicked him. Dean wanted to kick them back, harder and if possible leaving a reminder to make sure it didn't happen again.

"I don't know." The three words seem to break Sam.

"Hey-hey, it's okay, now just tell me what's going on with you." He reached out and squeezed Sam's shoulder for emphasis and comfort. Before he had died in May, Dean wouldn't have shown this kind of _chick-flick-iness_, but then again before he had gone to hell, Sam hadn't been this closed off, and he hadn't needed this kind of show of affection.

He hadn't needed this much coercion to talk before, to tell Dean what was wrong or going on in general.

It unnerved Dean how much his brother had changed in those four months.

Sam jerked, drawing Dean from his thoughts, and resettling his attention on his brother. Sam's face had gone from puppy pout to drawn and pinched in the short time Dean had been thinking.

"Sammy?" Dean asked, jumping a little when Sam jerked again and a thin trickle of blood spilled from his nose and over his lips to drip off his chin, staining the gray tee he was wearing. "Sam, what's wrong?" Dean asked, turning and moving his hands so they hovered over his little brother, in uncertainty.

When Sam jerked again, that uncertainty fled and Dean grabbed Sam's shoulders, shaking him a little when Sam didn't even open his eyes to look at him.

"Sam, c'mon little brother, what's wrong?" Not knowing what to do, Dean reached for his phone, intent on calling Bobby or the hospital, or _someone_! As soon as he picked up the phone, Sam jerked again and the little phone flew from Dean's hand and into the puke colored wall across the room.

_Well that's a new one._ Dean thought, looking at the shattered pieces of his phone and then back to his brother, who jerked again and everything on the table next to the bed jumped.

The jerks accompanied by various moving and jumping objects and furniture continued for the next few minutes, and Dean debated on whether or not to knock Sam out, not knowing the ramifications the move would have. But when Sam jerked harder a couple minutes later and all the lights shattered, the decision was made and Dean pulled back a fist and swung, catching Sam's jaw and rendering him unconscious almost instantly.

The lines of pain creasing around Sam's mouth and around his eyes stayed but his forehead smoothed and the tension in his body eased.

Not knowing what else to do, Dean reached in Sam's pocket and drew out his little brother's phone, dialing a familiar number, before putting the phone to his ear and waiting.

XXXX

A/N: Can you guess who he's calling???

You all probably hate me now huh? I swear I didn't want to end it here, but my muse revolted and made me.

So uh, let me know what you think and whether I should continue with this story.

Take care and review often,

DS


	7. Chapter 7

I was awed by the response to the last chapter, figuring that I had pushed all my readers away with the almost month wait… Thank you all for your support it does a heart good.

I was reading through the reviews and found it kind of funny that only one person guessed right on who Dean was calling.

But anyway, onto the next chapter, happy reading!

XXXX

'_Just stay away from the white light  
I'll tell you what side's your best side  
I never heard anyone  
I never listen at all'_

Polyamorous – Breaking Benjamin

XXXX

"Dean, honey, what's wrong?" The question made him draw back, forgetting for a moment that the woman could sense what he was thinking.

"It's Sammy, Missouri." He paused, floundering for words before settling on, "His powers are all out of whack, and I… I need your help." His voice lowered at the end, his attention refocusing on his unconscious little brother lying still on the bed.

"Okay, calm down Dean, do you want me to come to you, or do you want to come here?" Dean blanked on the question. _Here or there?_ His mind supplied for him after a moment, making him feel stupid for not comprehending it sooner.

"Uh- there," Dean answered, "We'll come to you; we're only about a day out." Dean turned and looked at the clock, noting absently that it was around seven pm and that if he started out now and drove all night he would get to the psychic's house around three thirty or four in the morning.

"Okay honey, we'll see you around four." With that there was an audible _click_ as the older woman hung up the phone. Dean shook his head and smiled ruefully, almost looking forward to seeing the temperamental black woman. Seconds later his phone buzzed with the warning of a text message.

'_I am NOT temperamental!'_

Outright laughing Dean closed the phone. He sobered instantly when his gaze fell on Sam, and set his sights on packing the room and getting them out of there and to Missouri, who hopefully would be able to help them.

Throwing the shirts and the few pair of jeans they had taken from their duffle bags haphazardly back into the bags, Dean walked into the bathroom and scooped their toiletries into the small overnight bag and zipped it shut.

By the time Dean had taken all of their bags out to the car and returned to the room to rouse Sam, it was quarter after seven. Rousing Sam wasn't as hard as Dean thought it would be, his brother waking with only a gentle shaking of his shoulder.

Sam was squinting with what looked like a migraine, and Dean was ready, two Advil liquid gels in the palm of his left hand and a glass of water in his right. Sam graciously accepted the pills, and though Dean knew Sam's migraine meds would have done a better job managing the pain, his brother had taken the last two the night before.

Sam said nothing about the lack of painkillers, just accepting Dean's help as he led him out to the Impala, not even asking where they were headed. He just sat quietly in the passenger seat, leaning his head against the cool window, his eyes drooping over ringed bruises that lined his bottom lashes.

Dean prayed it was exhaustion and not something more serious that kept his brother quiet, but said nothing, turning on the '67 classic and pulling out of the motel parking lot.

XXXX

It was around midnight when Sam jerked in the passenger seat and groaned, raising his hands to his head and fisting them tightly in his hair. His fingers white knuckled and he jerked again, this time the steering wheel jerking with him, sending the brothers onto the shoulder and spraying gravel everywhere.

Dean pressed the brakes and tried to guide the car to a stop as Sam whimpered and jerked again and the metal of the Impala's frame groaned. Dean's eyes widened and he got out the car as soon as it had stopped, idly noting the indentations in the doors as if something had pulled the metal into itself.

Dean ran around the car, skidding on the gravel as he pulled Sam's door open, moving fast to catch his little brother as he tumbled out without the support. Sam moaned at the contact, whether Dean was hurting him or it was just from the pain in his head, the older Winchester didn't know.

"Sammy?" Dean asked, pushing Sam up enough so his could look at his brother's face. "Sammy, c'mon little brother, fight this."

Sam's face had blanched away what little color it had gained since Dean had woken him earlier. His teeth were clenched tightly, his nostrils flared, and his eyes were squeezed tightly shut against the pain.

"Hurts," Sam managed to whimper out, panting breathlessly through his teeth.

"I know Sammy, I know." Dean soothed absently, squeezing Sam's shoulder as a tremor wracked his frame and the tree the Impala had stopped next to, groaned. "I need to knock you out for a while, little brother, just until I can get you someplace safe." Sam's eyes cracked open at the soft words and through the agony and fear lacing them, Dean could see his agreement.

Nodding, Dean squeezed Sam's shoulder once more, before standing and moving to open the trunk. Grabbing the med-kit, Dean grabbed the cylinder of sedative and a needle. Filling the syringe, he dropped the rest of the sedative back into the case and moved back to Sam.

"M'sorry, Sammy." Sam looked back at him, no blame in his eyes, and then clenched his eyes through another spike of pain, the largest branch of the tree next to them cracking and falling to the ground.

Forcing himself not to look at the tree, Dean pushed Sam's shirt up and pushed the needle into the muscle of his bicep plunged the meds home. It took a moment, but finally, slowly, Sam slumped, his face evening out and his body going lax.

Scrubbing a hand harshly over his face, Dean maneuvered Sam back into the passenger seat and closed the door. Bracing himself with a hand on the top of the Impala, Dean sighed and leaned against the car, breathing deeply for a minute before making his way back to the driver's side and sliding in the seat.

Turning the key, he put the car in drive and pulled away from the shoulder. He reached over and settled his right hand in the crook where Sam's shoulder met his throat, carefully avoiding looking at his brother the whole time, not wanting to see his usually strong little brother so weak and worn.

_C'mon little brother, you can get through this._

XXXX

Shutting off the engine, Dean leaned back against the leather seat, dropping his head back and shutting his eyes. A minute later he straightened and reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, pressing the button on the side and looking at the time.

_3:48 a.m._

The neon green numbers glared at him until he looked away and turned his attention to Sam. His brother sat obliviously in the seat next to him; his body slumped uncomfortably in unconsciousness.

Seeing Sam so vulnerable made Dean's stomach knot.

Sighing for the umpteenth time, Dean grabbed his keys from the ignition and opened his door. Standing from the seat, Dean groaned and stretched his arms over his head, leaning back and cracking his stiff back. He had driven through the night only stopping twice, once for Sam and the other for gas, not wanting to waste any time in getting to Kansas.

_Didn't think I'd ever say that._ Dean thought to himself, with a small quirk of his lips.

Looking back at Sam one more time to make sure he was okay, Dean looked up at the house he had parked in front of. Walking up to the door was easier than he thought it would be, with all that had gone on the last time he had been there.

The door opened before he could knock, and he was greeted with Missouri's anxious face. "Oh, you poor boys." She said quietly before reaching out and pulling Dean into a hug. Dean sunk into the comfort, needing it more than he thought he had.

It took a moment, but when Dean finally pulled away his eyes were red.

"I don't know what to do."

XXXX

A/N: Man I'm getting evil again, it was like the when I first started writing Supernatural, a cliff hanger or a major emotional scene ending each chapter… YAY!

C'mon, yah'all know that it's fun to write this stuff… You _love_ it! You know you do.

So let me know what you think.

Take care,

DS


	8. Chapter 8

Hey guys!! Sorry this was supposed to be done and up last week, and it was done but I had no internet and I sort of got kidnapped (twice) for my birthday, (which was on Sunday the 11th- but did that stop them?? NO!!) and didn't get the chance to finish and post this when I wanted.

Sorry!

Loving the reviews from all of you they make me smile.

Happy reading.

XXXX

'_I climb, I slip, I fall  
Reaching for your hands  
But I lay here all alone  
Sweating all your blood  
If I can find out how  
To make you listen now'_

Paramore – Breathe

XXXX

Throughout the whole process of being moved into Missouri's house and into the bed farthest from the door in her guest bedroom, Sam had never been coherent enough to more than slur _Dean_. He had then slept (been unconscious) for the rest of the morning and into the middle of the after, Dean never far from his side.

Dean had hovered around Sam the whole time, jumping whenever Sam made a move or a noise, completely ignoring Missouri's suggestions that he too get some sleep. Even if he were to let his exhaustion creep in, his big brother instincts would never let him get farther than that place between awake and asleep.

It was no use to even try.

So when Sam finally stirred at quarter to four that afternoon, Dean jumped at the chance to talk to his brother. He had been dying to find out just how Sam was doing since the night before when the first _attack_ hit him.

XXXX

"You look like shit," Sam whispered as soon as his eyes had opened enough for him to be able to get a good look at Dean.

"You don't look too hot yourself, Princess." Dean shot back, none of his usual heat infused in the parry.

"Seriously," Sam said, his hoarse voice cracking around the word. It was enough for Dean to flinch, and Sam reached up to place his hand on top of the one Dean had rested on his shoulder. "Dean, I'm okay." He wasn't sure who the statement was meant to reassure more, but it wasn't working for him and it certainly didn't seem to lessen the tension in Dean.

"Sure you are, Sammy." The statement was said softly, surprising both Winchesters, both of them knowing the conversation was headed to a chick-flick, both of them surprised that it was Dean who was leading it there.

"Watch it Dean, you're headed into dangerous territory." Sam said with a smirk and a raise of his eyebrows, pushing himself up onto his elbows. He grimaced at the strain on his overtaxed muscles, but continued pushing until he was sitting propped against the headboard, completely ignoring Dean's protests.

"I'm fine Dean, just a little sore." He said, trying to reassure the older man, and wipe the ever present concern off his face.

"Yeah. Sure." Dean muttered, obviously not believing a single word Sam was spouting. "Anyway," he said a minute later, after giving Sam a good once over as if evaluating his real condition. "Missouri wants to talk to us as soon as we've had a chance to eat and get cleaned up."

Sam paled at just the idea of eating anything, his stomach protesting harshly, turning itself into knots. "Uh, Dean, not sure about the whole eating thing." He clenched his teeth as nausea threatened, and placed a protective hand against his stomach.

As Sam watched him, Dean's lips pursed at the news. He knew that he was worrying his brother, but Sam didn't fancy the prospect of eating only to see that food thrown up moments later. He wished there was something he could do to reassure Dean, but the one thing Dean wanted was out of the question.

"Yeah," Dean blew out a sigh, not wanting to fight with Sam, when he was so obviously not okay, and was only trying to tell him the truth.

A knock at the door interrupted both men from their thoughts, and they both turned to see Missouri standing in the doorway, her lips pursed in concern for both men in the room. She bustled her way through the entrance and over to Sam's free side, leaning in to hug the youngest Winchester fiercely before pulling away and looking him in the eye.

"We'll figure this out Sam, and in the meantime, I think I may have something to settle your stomach enough for you to be able to eat something." When Sam looked back at her with a smile that was lined with more than a little uncertainty, she smiled and squeezed his shoulder. "I'm not losing another Winchester on my watch." She told him with an air of certainty that even Sam couldn't challenge.

"Okay," he nodded.

"Good," she said, pushing back from the bed and walking back towards the door. "Now, both of you get moving," she said, turning back towards them when she reached the door jamb. "Dinner's getting cold and I didn't spend the last two hours cooking for you two not to eat." With that she turned and bustled out of the room, leaving two smirking Winchester's staring after her.

"You heard the woman, Sammy," Dean said a minute later, "let's go," he cooed, making shooing motions towards the door.

"I heard that, Dean Winchester!" Missouri yelled up the stairs only seconds later. "Don't make me use this spoon!"

"Sorry," Dean yelled back, not looking at all like he meant it.

"You best not smart with me boy!" She yelled again, and Dean heard footsteps heading towards the stairs.

"Really am!" Dean said, with raised brows and widened eyes. He blew out a sigh of relief when he heard her steps stop.

"Good," the woman said back, and Dean could hear her steps retreating back towards the kitchen, "Now hurry up, the both of you! And Sam, stop laughing at your brother's lack of manners."

Dean turned back to see Sam snickering, and his anger spiked. He was about to lay into the younger man, but seeing some color return to his brother's cheeks and the actual smile that adorned his face, stopped him in his tracks. "C'mon," he said instead, smirking back at Sam. "Let's go, before she comes looking."

"Yeah," Sam said still looking unsure, but smiling anyway as he turned, swung his legs off the bed and pushed to his feet in one fluid movement. That one move turned out to be too much, and Sam swayed, his legs threatening to crumble beneath him as his head swam.

"Careful Sammy," Dean said, moving to take one of Sam's arms and pull it across his shoulders. Sam blinked, trying to clear his vision, and looked at Dean.

"Thanks," he whispered, gripping the shoulder his hand rested on.

"No problem, now let's go see what the dragon lady cooked up for us." Sam's dimples deepened and he huffed a laugh, nodding.

"Yeah, let's go." Just being in Missouri's house seemed to lessen his headache, and he had no doubt that Missouri would be able to think of something to settle his stomach and allow him to eat for the first time in days.

Sam just hoped that she would be able to help him with his powers, or at least tell him what was wrong, if he was dying or whatever else was going on.

Sam didn't voice his thoughts, just smiled at Dean and let his brother help him down the stairs and into the dining room.

In the end, he just didn't want to be right.

XXXX

A/N: So kind of a transition chapter and a chance for me to get Missouri in character. Hope you liked it.

Take care,

DS


	9. Chapter 9

Hey guys, sorry these chapters aren't coming along as fast as I want them to, I'm back in classes full time and back to working in the spare time that I'm not at the gym and not doing papers.

All mistakes are my own, and if Supernatural was mine, I certainly wouldn't be in this tiny dorm, on the internet.

I love your reviews though, they help brighten a day filled with papers and statistical equations.

And I would just like to say… YouTube can officially kiss this, I will not be posting on that site anymore. If they feel the need to reject every new video people post and some old ones, including a SUPPORT THE TROOPS video, they can screw themselves. Out of the twenty something videos I have uploaded, only 16 show, and they even took down one that I filmed at home, claiming the content owners rejected it… I am the freaking content owner!!!! I did not freaking reject it.

Deep breath, stepping from the soapbox…

Anyway…

I hope you're still enjoying.

XXXX

'_Do you think about what you've been through  
You never thought you'd be so depressed  
Are you wondering  
Is it life or death?'_

One X – Three Days Grace

XXXX

As Dean and Sam walked down the stairs, Sam leaning heavily on his brother, they both felt a certain calm in the air. It was as if everything had been thrown under a blanket, and Sam groaned in relief as his headache let up a little bit.

He staggered when he stepped down from the last step, catching himself on Dean, before steadying, and taking more off his brother. He breathed a sigh of relief as the pain eased almost completely, mentally thanking Missouri for whatever she had done to alleviate the pressure that had been building and weighing on his mind for days.

"You're welcome, honey," Missouri answered from behind him, setting her hand on his shoulder and making him jump. The abrupt motion brought with it a rush to his head, making him dizzy, and tilting the world surrounding him.

Sam shut his eyes tightly against the unsteadying sensation, the hand that rested on Dean's shoulder in involuntarily clenching, alerting his brother to his predicament.

"Sam?" Even without the concern evident in the older man's voice, the tightening of the arm around his ribs belied the other man's worry.

"Sorry child," Missouri again, her tone regretful, the hand on his shoulder lifting up to pat him gently.

"I'm okay," Sam breathed, cautiously opening his eyes and peering "puppily" at his brother and the older woman. "Food?" he asked, his stomach settling enough that the prospect of food no longer nauseated him, even as the rest of the wooziness abated. In turn his stomach rumbled at the suggestion of being filled, and Missouri smiled, a little chuckle coming from Dean beside him.

"Yes, food." Missouri led the way through the hallway and into the kitchen, lifting a stack of plates to carry them out into the dining room.

Dean led him to the table, making sure he was sitting before heading around the table to sit down himself. Sam scooted himself forward, feeling the edge of the table steadily at his ribs, and looked up as Missouri set a plate of chicken and roasted potatoes in front of him. His cheeks dimpled and she smiled back at him, moving to fill a plate for Dean and then one for herself as well before sitting down.

"Smells good," Dean grinned, licking his lips and looking to Missouri for permission to start devouring the plate before him.

"Well go ahead, dig in." She said, making a shooing motion, and Dean's smile widened impossibly further, his hands already moving for the knife and fork set beside his plate.

Sam watched him with a smirk before having to look away as Dean tore at the food like a wild animal. His brother had no table manners, Sam shook his head ruefully.

Mindful of his own manners, and his lately rebellious stomach, Sam ate slowly, cutting each piece evenly and chewing slowly, waiting a minute before taking another bite.

XXXX

By the end of dinner Sam had finished the chicken and half of the potatoes, all he could manage on a stomach that hadn't had anything in days. Dean had watched him the whole time, and every time Sam looked up and caught him, he pretended he wasn't. Sam knew he was worried, but there wasn't anything he could do to assuage those fears without making himself sick in the process.

As it was, he could already feel the churning in his gut from the little he ate, and prayed that he would be able to keep it down.

"Sam?" The voice speared through his thoughts, and Sam looked up under his bangs to see Dean looking at him sympathetically. It was like the older man could read his thoughts and knew that Sam was doing everything he could not to get sick.

"M'alright," he mumbled, and knew the lie wasn't convincing anyone.

"Sure you are honey," the voice came from his left and Sam turned to see Missouri look at him knowingly. "All the same, why don't you two go watch some TV while I clean this up."

"I-" _can help._ She cut him off before he could finish the thought.

"Nonsense, Sam; go and relax." Sam blushed and nodded, not getting any farther than to start pushing himself up, before Dean was there beside him. He pulled Sam's arm over his shoulder, not giving him the chance to try (and fail) on his own, and led him into the living room, plopping him on the couch, before going over to peruse the movies, lined alphabetically on the shelves next to the tv.

"Dude, awesome collection." Dean breathed, looking over the titles, wondering how Missouri could have just about every one of his favorite movies.

"Why thank you," Missouri's voice drifted through from the kitchen.

Sam looked up and smiled, turning to Dean who held out a movie to him. "What do you feel about Shawshank?" Sam's smile widened, remembering the first time they had seen the movie.

"_Man, did you see that?" Dean asked, his eyes bright as he looked down his eleven year old brother. "The way he got out, sticking it to the man…" Dean grinned, spacing out for a second before settling his gaze back on Sam, "That was awesome!"_

"Sounds good man." He answered with a smile, and Dean's eyes danced. The older man popped the movie in, and plopped himself down on the opposite side of the couch.

XXXX

Two hours later, with Dean commenting on every move Andy Dufresne made, and Sam wasn't so sure that watching this movie in particular had been the best idea. Every time he started to get into the movie, one of Dean's wayward commentaries would rip him right back out.

Sure he was happy that Dean was having a good time, but he wished his brother would just shut up for a minute and let him enjoy the movie. If that happened he might have something to concentrate on, other than the returned pounding in his head, and the churning in his stomach.

Every breath he took set his nerves on edge, and every move Dean made worsened the pain and churning, making him wonder just when whatever Missouri had done had worn off. It wasn't that he could ask her, the woman having gone to bed a little into the second hour of the movie, claiming exhaustion but Sam could tell she had wanted to be rid of Dean's commentary just as much as Sam did.

Dean made one comment too many and Sam snapped, "Would you just be quiet and watch the damn movie." Dean's wide eyed look was almost comical, but Sam just turned back to the movie, his little outburst sending what felt like rusty shears into his brain.

He slumped into the couch and tried to ignore the looks Dean shot at him, concentrating instead on breathing through the pain. The only problem with his plan was the fact that every breath he took seemed to worsen the pain, and Sam longingly wished for the clouded hold of painkillers and the soft sheets of a bed. He kept his mouth shut though, not wanting to worry Dean, knowing that he had already failed in that prospect when he had first snapped at the older man.

Another spike drove itself into his head, and Sam clenched his eyes, bringing up a hand to fist in it his hair. When another drove in, he groaned and hunched over, burying his face into his knees, fighting the urge to bite down on the pant clad legs.

"Sam?" He dimly heard, but he didn't have the strength to lift his head and look at his brother, jerking instead when a fresh wave of pain assaulted him. "Sammy? C'mon little brother look at me," panic now, but still Sam couldn't do anything but twist his fisted hands against his head, praying for the pain to stop.

His breath hitched when Dean touched him, the simple gesture spreading fire through him. He heard something (expensive) shatter, and felt Dean jump next to him, the move fueling the flames running rampant in him.

"Don't t-touch me," Sam ground out, and when Dean made no move to take his hand away, he sobbed out, "_please!"_ The hand was gone in split second and immediately the pain worsened and Sam yearned for its warmth and comfort.

"_Oh, god!"_ He sobbed out and curled into himself all the tighter, knowing his brother understood when the hand was replaced against the small of his back. It didn't do anything to stop the pain, but it helped with the panic.

"Sorry," it was no more than a whisper, and Sam didn't understand the statement. "MISSOURI!" Dean screamed, and Sam whimpered at the flash of pain, hearing a crack, and feeling the couch jerk down on his side.

"_Please,"_ he moaned, leaning over towards Dean, curling into the comfort of his brother, begging for the pain to end.

TBC

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A/N: And look at that, I bet you all hate me right now! :D The queen of cliffs is back!!!

This is becoming too much fun and way too easy to write.

I hope you all enjoyed.

Take care and review often,

DS


	10. Chapter 10

Hey guys!

It was somewhere between my fourth hour of Psych Statistics homework and American History when this chapter kind of just slid from my fingers… I figured I might as well type it and give you all something, after a little over a week without.

Sorry about that too, I've been swamped with work from my classes, and actual work, and I just haven't had the time to work on this like I want to.

Another little note, I have NO idea where this is going, it's just kind of steering itself, so be patient and keep reading and reviewing please!! It really makes me smile to see a review sitting in my inbox in between pages of homework.

Chapter 10:

XXXX

LAST TIME:

_His breath hitched when Dean touched him, the simple gesture spreading fire through him. He heard something (expensive) shatter, and felt Dean jump next to him, the move fueling the flames running rampant in him. _

"_Don't t-touch me," Sam ground out, and when Dean made no move to take his hand away, he sobbed out, "please!" The hand was gone in split second and immediately the pain worsened and Sam yearned for its warmth and comfort. _

"_Oh, god!" He sobbed out and curled into himself all the tighter, knowing his brother understood when the hand was replaced against the small of his back. It didn't do anything to stop the pain, but it helped with the panic._

"_Sorry," it was no more than a whisper, and Sam didn't understand the statement. "MISSOURI!" Dean screamed, and Sam whimpered at the flash of pain, hearing a crack, and feeling the couch jerk down on his side. _

"_Please," he moaned, leaning over towards Dean, curling into the comfort of his brother, begging for the pain to end._

XXXX

'_Twenty years, it's breaking you down  
__Now that you understand, there's no one around  
__Take a breath, just take a seat  
__You're falling apart and tearing at the seams'_

Heaven Forbid – The Fray

XXXX

Sam felt it when the blood started dripping from his nose, its warm trail running over his top lip and falling off to seep into the denim of the jeans he wore.

He could smell the bitter copper through flared nostrils, his breathing heavy and harsh through his nose.

His jaw and eyes were clenched tight against the pain, tremors wracking his lanky form.

He could hear Dean screaming for Missouri, and reassurances that almost sounded like pleading, as Dean's hand spasmed on the small of his back.

Through all of that, voices swirled and twisted their way into his mind, screaming, laughing, yelling; they dug at what was left of his willpower, of his fragile psyche. They beat at him, flooding his mind with images and pain worse than the visions, telekinesis, and exorcizing combined.

_It's like flicking a switch._

The words drifted in and made themselves more pronounced than the rest of the matter invading his mind. He remembered Ava telling him something along those lines in Cold Oak and now it made some sense to him as his powers continued to overwhelm.

As soon as the thought was there, it was gone. The pain and voices seemed to swallow him, wrapping him in a blanket of piercing thorns and rusted nails. They bit and tore at him, shredding the last of his sanity and dignity, as everything crashed down on him at once.

XXXX

"Missouri!" Dean called again, not daring to take his eyes off Sam, who was now curled over completely. Dean wrapped his other arm around his brother and drew Sam closer to him, Sam's ear pressed to Dean's stomach, one hand clenched in his hair and the other wound tightly into the fabric of Dean's shirt.

As Dean watched, his chin pressed into to Sam's hair, and his arms wrapped around his little brother, blood flowed from his brother's nose and ears. Sam whimpered and drew farther into himself, his eyes clenched and teeth ground so tightly together Dean wondered if they would crack and break in resistance.

Dean felt Sam's muscles bunch under his hand, and he jerked a keen ripping from his throat as the window between the kitchen and living room shattered.

Dean instinctively tried to cover the younger man as much as possible, but the glass stopped just short of them, almost as if hitting a wall before dropping to the floor in a shower of shiny glinting and clatters.

Dean watched the procession, dumbfounded and speechless before another harsh jerk shook Sam's body and a whimper mixed with a sob strangled its way past Sam's teeth. The railing on the stairway splintered and broke, surprising Missouri who was hurrying down the stairs, rumpled and worried.

As Dean watched her, tremors made their way through Sam, hard enough to shake the broken couch and Dean. He saw her horror as she felt her way through Sam's mind, before a mask of calm slipped over her features and she hurried the rest of the way to them.

A cry ripped through Sam, his back arcing and his mouth opening to gasp in breaths, as Missouri stepped within the wall that he had built around himself and Dean. She halted, her hand just above his shoulder and looked at the brothers.

Dean could see that she felt something wrong from where she stood, and wanted to ask her what it was, at the same time he didn't want to move from his position wrapped around Sam. His brother seemed to be calmer with Dean where he was, and the older man didn't want to do anything to disturb that calm.

But as Missouri dropped her hand the rest of the way to Sam's shoulder, the younger man jerked and moaned, pressing harder into Dean.

"Oh lord," Missouri breathed and Dean turned his head to fully look at her, resting his ear on the top of Sam's head.

If it was possible, Missouri looked more concerned for Sam now than she had before. Without saying a word she placed her other hand on the side of Sam's head and her eyes went from focused to unseeing.

Sam's breath hitched, and he tried to turn away from the invading touch on his mind, pressing further into Dean. Dean tightened his arms in response, trying to pull the younger man into himself, to do his big brother duty and protect him from the world and from his own mind.

Dean didn't know how long they stayed like that, it felt like hours with Sam jerking and whimpering in his arms, but in all likely hood, it had probably only been a few moments. But then Sam slumped in his arms, his breathing still harsh but better than it had been, and Missouri lifted her hands from him.

Missouri looked sick when Dean turned to her. She was shaking and pale as she stared down at Sam with sympathy in her eyes. "I need some Aspirin," she said in a low voice before walking quickly from the room.

Dean wanted to follow her and ask what was going on, but after the show he had just witnessed, there was no way in hell he was going to get up and leave Sam alone.

So Dean settled for pushing Sam up and then back, twisting him so he lay with his head against the arm of the unbroken side of the couch, trying to ignore the winding trails of blood on his face, and the matching stains on his jeans and Dean's shirt. He stood and levered Sam's legs on the opposite side of the couch, grabbing a large tome to stuff under the couch and level it out.

That done, he stood and looked down at Sam, pain lining his face even in sleep. (unconsciousness) He looked up when he heard Missouri's padding footsteps coming toward him, her hand extended to him with a wet cloth. He took it gratefully and knelt down next to his brother.

"What happened?" He asked, not looking up from his task of cleaning the blood from Sam's upper lip. "What made this time so much worse?" He asked again when she hadn't answered, and turned to the blood dribbling from Sam's right ear and down his neck.

"Dean…" Placating and resistant.

"No, I want to know why you're so worried." Dean didn't mean to sound so harsh, but when it came to Sam, withholding information was a really bad idea.

Missouri drew in a deep breath and huffed it out, taking a step closer to the couch. "It seems that with his recent usage of his powers, he broke a sort of _barrier_," she stopped for a second, seeming to be thinking over her next words before continuing, "When he went up against Samhain and used his powers on that great of a challenge, he let the rest of his powers be released."

"And?" Dean asked impatiently when she didn't continue.

"_And_ his mind isn't ready for that kind of power." She said finally. Dean turned slowly to look at her, fear written clearly on his face.

"What do you mean, _not ready_?" He asked carefully, afraid of the answer.

Missouri held steady, looking him straight in the eye and sighing before saying, "It means, that if we can't get Sam's mind to catch up with his powers, they will kill him."

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A/N: So I hope you liked this and aren't going to hunt me down for ending it like that… : )

So review and tell me what you think.

Take care

DS


	11. Chapter 11

Hey yah'all… how yah been?

Been really happy that people are sticking with me on this, and the reviews have been a great boost!!

There's not much to say, so I'll just tell you happy reading and let you move on.

Chapter 11:

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"_And?" Dean asked impatiently when she didn't continue._

"_And his mind isn't ready for that kind of power." She said finally. Dean turned slowly to look at her, fear written clearly on his face._

"_What do you mean, not ready?" He asked carefully, afraid of the answer. _

_Missouri held steady, looking him straight in the eye and sighing before saying, "It means, that if we can't get Sam's mind to catch up with his powers, they will kill him._

XXXX

'_Close my eyes theses voices say  
Haunting me, I can't escape  
For you, just you  
Time will always wait  
While I throw away what I can't replace'_

Red – Hide

XXXX

Dean had sat and stared at Sam for over an hour, afraid if he looked away, even for a second, the younger man would disappear. Missouri's words had hit him like a physical punch, leaving him gaping and trying to find air for his suddenly empty lungs.

He had known there was something seriously wrong with Sam, and had even glanced at the fact that it may have been bad enough to kill him, but to hear someone voice those thoughts out loud…

It was too much to take in.

He had practically raised Sam; had watched him go from a newborn to a stumbling toddler, to a gawky teenager, and finally to a strong man- to lose him now would kill Dean. He had lost him once, and had gone through Hell to get him back, he couldn't do it again.

He couldn't lose him again.

Watching his brother fall in Cold Oak, feeling him go limp and stop breathing in his arms as they knelt in the mud, it had been worse than anything he had gone through in hell. It had broken him faster and more efficiently than anything else ever could.

Shaking his head to rid himself of the thoughts barreling through him, Dean scrubbed a well calloused hand over his face, and pushed himself up.

Sam wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, and he needed a drink.

A drink that was sitting on the kitchen counter waiting for him when he walked into the kitchen. The whiskey burned a path down his throat, but Dean relished in it, needed it, needed something to tear him away from thoughts of Sam dying.

He put the glass down on the counter and used his hands to brace himself against the edge of the sink. Dropping his head down, Dean closed his eyes and just breathed, telling himself that they would get through whatever was going on with Sam, that in the end it would be okay.

There was no way to live with any other alternative.

XXXX

Sam pushed heavy lids open, wincing at the pain that lanced through his head. Only flashes of what had happened early had stayed with him. He remembered the pain and the voices for the most part, but he didn't remember what had been said and what had happened to the outside world while he had been stuck as a prisoner within his own mind.

The world shifted in and out before steadying and Sam's gaze focussed on the floral print of the old couch he was laying on. There was no one else in the room, but he could hear Dean's snores from the room they shared upstairs, and he could hear Missouri puttering around in her small kitchen.

He groaned and blinked, using his left hand to push himself up enough to roll over. The tv was on and set to a low hum, the words not registering, only the soft sound as the images on the screen flicked and changed.

He heard the shift and change as Missouri noticed he was awake and looked up as minutes later she bustled into the room, a glass of water and two small white pills held in her hands. Her mouth was turned in a slight frown, and Sam saw the clear worry on her face as she read him.

Sam knew there was pain and confusion on his own face, in his own mind. He had no idea what was happening to him, and he was afraid what that change would do to him in the end.

When Missouri got within five feet of him, the voices seemed to kick back on, knotching louder and louder the closer she got. He groaned and twisted on the couch, pushing himself into a sitting position before scrambling to push himself to the opposite side of the couch.

When he looked up, Missouri had stopped in her tracks, sympathy and fear etched in her features as she stared at him, the water and pills now set on the table, forgotten. She backed away carefully, watching Sam's face as she did so, almost studying to see if the pain and voices lessened the farther away she was.

The noise in Sam's head died down, and he breathed a sigh of relief, before once again looking up at Missouri. "The closer you are, the worse it gets." Sam said quietly, a silent apology for her in his eyes. He shrugged and tried for a small smile.

"I know honey. I'm sorry." She said back, equally as soft. "Since I can hear other's thoughts, and those people are all in my head, I'm like a conductor, an all in one punch." She grimaced and Sam smiled sadly at her.

"Just have to watch out for that, huh?" He asked with a small laugh, unconsciously easing the white knuckled grip he had on the couch arm as Missouri crossed the kitchen's threshold. The pain had eased a little with the distant and voices like the TV had dulled to a tolerable level.

"Yeah we'll have to watch out for that." Missouri agreed with pursed lips. "You're one hell of a powerful psychic boy; we'll have to watch out for you too." She said with a rueful grin. It didn't last long before it was replaced with a troubled frown, Sam's own answering it.

"What's going on Missouri?" Sam asked tentatively, still not sure whether he wanted to know or not.

Though Missouri could sense Sam's indecision, she knew the boy needed to know. "Sam your powers are progressing at an alarming rate." She started softly, looking up to make sure he had taken in those words before continuing, "They're progressing too fast for your mind."

Sam nodded, taking in what she was saying before doing a double take on the last sentence, his head snapping to the older woman so fast he was surprised it didn't give him whiplash. "What do you mean they're progressing too fast for my mind?"

"I mean just that. They're growing too fast for your mind to be able to keep up with them, and that's what's causing the headaches, the spurts of telekinesis, and the blackouts." She looked imploringly at Sam as she finished, needing to know how he was taking everything and wanted to slap herself when she saw the utter despair there.

"Am I _dying?_" His voice was no more than a small whisper and for a moment Missouri saw a small child rather than a full grown adult hunter.

She hesitated before answering, wondering idly if she should leave it to Dean to tell Sam the hard truth, knowing they would both take it better knowing it was coming from family. Sucking in a hard breath she nodded carefully.

Sam's face fell. He looked like his world had collapsed, and she hurried to reassure him before he slipped farther into what looked like an impending depression.

"Child, that's worst case scenario. That will _only_ happen if we can't get your mind to catch up with your powers." It sounded like chiding, but Missouri knew Sam had taken it as reassurance and strength when he looked up at her with a grim smile and nodded.

"Let's get the two to catch up then."

XXXX

A/N: Yay for filler chapters and determined Sam!!!

So hope you liked, let me know.

Take care and review,

DS


	12. Chapter 12

Hey guys… So no excuses, with the exception of a lot of tests, and work… (Does that count as a good excuse?? Does college go before fic? I dunno, that's a hard decision! I need to ponder…)

So anyway… I own nothing, just the deranged illusions my muse thinks up for its playtime with Sammy… Poor guy.

On to the next chapter.

Enjoy!

XXXX

'_Something missing  
Left behind  
Search in circles  
Every time I try  
I've been here before  
I've seen you before  
I can't escape winding down these halls  
Hard to find a place where there are no walls  
And no lines begging me to cross  
Only straight ahead better move along_'

These Walls – Trapt

XXXX

Missouri had been sifting through Sam's mind for over two hours before she finally bobbed her head up and smiled in satisfaction. "There you are," she whispered, and Sam looked at her in confusion.

"There what is?" he prompted, wanting to know just what it was she had found in his mind. In the corner, Dean stood straighter, also listening in.

"I found a sort of, wall if you will." She said slowly, still concentrating on the task of sifting through Sam's mind. "It's what is causing the outbursts of power you've been having."

"Wait, but wouldn't a wall stop the outbursts?" Dean asked, pushing himself off the wall and ambling over to the other two. He looked almost as confused as Sam felt, neither man understanding how a wall would cause outbursts and not stop them.

"You would think so, wouldn't you?" Missouri muttered thoughtfully, finally pulling back from Sam's mind and looking at both Winchesters before her. "See the mind is a funny thing, though. With the wall there, trying to block Sam's natural powers, it's hurting him, trying to push back something that's supposed to be there."

Both men nodded, but neither looked like they fully understood just what she was saying. She sighed and went on.

"When Sam went up against Samhain, the pain his powers brought with them created the wall, a natural defense against anything seeming to cause harm to it. Therefore it threw up the wall in front of something that is supposed to happen naturally." At the thoroughly lost looks on both Sam and Dean's faces, she wound her hands together on her lap and continued.

"Sam's powers are fighting to get through the wall, and the longer said wall is standing, the more power is building up behind it, and the more power, the bigger the explosion will be at the end." She paused, thinking, before, "The bigger and more damaging the explosions of power will be on the way to breaking the down that wall." Sighing she added, "If that wall doesn't come down, or if it doesn't come down fast enough, it will kill Sam."

When she took a look at both men Sam was nodding and resigned, while Dean had paled considerably and looked as if he wanted to throw up. She had known that the information would be hard on both Winchesters, but seeing the actual reactions brought a heavy weight down on her heart.

"But," she said, standing and raising a placating hand, "we're going to make sure it doesn't come to that." She gave them a smile, one that seemed tight even to her, and patted Sam on the shoulder before walking from the room.

"Well, ah, that kinda sucks." Sam said, throwing a glance and a small smile at Dean.

"That's not funny," Dean said a rueful smile quirking his lips.

"No, I guess not." Sam's voice was quiet, and the breath he let out was long and shaky, telling Dean just how hard the news had hit him.

Dean just gave him a strained smile, not sure what to say, and squeezed the shoulder his hand lay on.

XXXX

Missouri had been in her room since she had finished poking around in Sam's head that morning and neither man was apt to bother her, preferring instead to stay in the living room and what TV. Sam had dozed off within the first two hours, leaving Dean alone with his thoughts for the last three.

His thoughts weren't painting a pretty picture.

Most of them revolved around the 'what if' possibility of Missouri not figuring out a way to help Sam before his mind caught up to him and killed him. Most of the pictures weren't serene or soft either, leaving the oldest Winchester fighting to keep the food he had eaten earlier that day down.

He wasn't ready to see anything quite like the images displaying themselves in high definition in his mind. That had been the whole point of him going to hell in the first place, to save Sam from death and hurt.

Fat lot of good that did.

He didn't doubt that he had done the right thing in going to Hell, but that didn't make what was happening with Sam now any easier to deal with. He wouldn't doubt that it didn't make the whole thing worse.

He had already seen Sam die once; there was no way he would do it again.

There was no way he _could_ do it again.

XXXX

Somewhere in the fourth hour of reruns of Miami Vice, Sam twitched in his sleep, making Dean, who had been intently forcing himself to watch the show, jump.

The elder Winchester turned to look at the Sam, trying to gauge whether he was having a nightmare, or if his powers were about to go haywire again. When Sam moaned and tossed his head, brow furrowing and lips turning down in a frown, but nothing in the house broke, Dean decided it was the former.

Sam twitched again, this time rolling his head toward Dean; the older man reached a hand over and placed it on Sam's shoulder. What was meant as a motion of comfort caused Sam's eyes to shoot open, and he jerked back and out of reach, the umbrella rack from in front of the door lifting to fly and embed itself into the TV.

Sparks and glass flew as Dean stared at his brother.

The younger of the two looked at Dean in bewilderment before listing to the side, closing his eyes and whimpering. His hands reached up to fist in his hair, and he curled in on himself, away from Dean.

_Not again_. The thought was automatic, but Dean pushed it aside, already reaching for Sam as his brother keened and the banister on the stairs broke in three places.

When Dean looked back to Sam from the stairs, blood ran in thick rivulets down the younger man's face, the crimson starkly evident against Sam's pale skin and almost bloodless lips. He hoisted the younger man up against his chest, forcing Sam's head back against his shoulder as he reached for the Kleenex on the table.

When he turned to the younger man again, Sam was gasping, the air he managed to draw in not enough for his seemingly starved lungs. His eyes opened, but only whites showed as they rolled back into head. The tendons in his neck pulled taught, his jaw clenched, and his whole body tensed.

Before Dean knew what was happening, Sam was convulsing in his arms. He froze, all his training going out the window, as he watched his little brother seizing in front of him.

Dean was pulled out of his thoughts when one of Sam's convulsions sent the back of his head into Dean's nose; hard enough to bruise badly, if not break entirely.

Dean ignored the pain and the blood in favor of getting Sam onto the floor and into the recovery position, holding his head steady, and screaming for Missouri.

XXXX

A/N: So okay, that wasn't the best place to end it, huh? Well call me evil, but you all know it'll be worth it in the end… I hope.

And I hereby tell you all that Munchies are evil…. They get you all addicted, and you're all happy eating them, and then poof, you reach in the bag and there's nothing left! NOTHING! I have to wait till tomorrow to go out and get more too… Oh the misery!

Cries…

Take care,

DS


	13. Chapter 13

AHHH!!! I have had no internet since the fifth! I unplug my computer to take it wireless and everything just went caput!!! I swear it drove me insane!! There was no way to get to my updates and no way to get to my reviews… By the third day I was pulling out hair!

Although for some reason people kept telling me that my hotmail instant messenger was logging itself on… I think it may be time to call the boys out for help on this one… this computer is just possessed or something.

And to make matters worse, it also meant that I had no way to get a chapter out to you guys. : (

So I'll just have to post it now… Enjoy!

XXXX

'_I want a normal life  
__Just like a newborn child  
__I am a lover-hater  
__I am an instigator  
__You are an oversight  
__Don't try to compromise  
__I learn to love to hate it  
__I am not integrated'_

Sooner or Later - Breaking Benjamin

XXXX

Throwing every prior idea and caution out the window, Missouri and Dean had opted to call for an ambulance as soon as Sam had full out seized in the middle of his power outburst. It had been enough to tell them that neither of them could handle what was happening with Sam's body, even if Missouri was getting closer to answer on how to fix his mind.

The seizer had been a shock to Dean, leaving the older man not knowing what to do for Sam, one of only a few times in his life that he hadn't had the answers when it came to his little brother. The blood and the convulsions combined had scared Dean, had taken him way past whatever other fears he had felt since Sam had started losing control.

Both the Missouri and Dean had made the choice to get Sam medical attention when the fear of a brain bleed or something worse was presented. Neither of them wanted to draw too much attention, but they also needed to know if something serious had gone wrong in the younger Winchester's mind.

_Something worse than what was already wrong._

And that was just the cherry on top of everything else that had been happening. Sam full out seizing on top of everything else that had been going wrong lately. When Sam had gone limp before the ambulance had showed up, the macho Dean Winchester had been just about ready to scream- or cry.

_It's a wonder I'm not rocking the corner, banging my head on the wall._ Dean thought to himself, with a harsh grimace curling his lips. He scrubbed a well calloused hand over his face and sighed, squirming in the uncomfortable hospital chair.

He had been sitting there in _that_ uncomfortable hospital chair, positioned next to Sam's bed since his brother had been transferred to the PCU six hours before. Sam had been taken away from him as soon as the ambulance had pulled into the ER, and Dean hadn't seen him for three hours after.

He had been uncomfortable in the waiting room, already frayed nerves snapping further. Missouri had waited with him for the first two of those hours, calling Bobby and trying to calm the older Winchester. Bobby had given her a good answer, telling her that he would be there within the next day, but Dean had just snapped at her, and paced away.

She had reluctantly left when the clock on the waiting room wall had clearly displayed midnight, knowing that she needed to get sleep if she was going to have any chance in figuring out how to help Sam. Even then she had only left when Dean had promised to call her if anything changed with Sam.

Since she had taken her leave, Dean had been waiting alone, the first hour in the ER and then the next six hours sitting with his little brother, watching and waiting.

Sam was pale, his features virtually bloodless, the white of his sheets and the light green hospital gown only emphasizing that point. A canula ran under his nose and hooked around his ears. A dark bruise mottled the right side of his face from where it had slammed against the coffee table in the midst of his convulsions.

His brother was also hooked to the usual monitoring systems and two IV bags, one bag filled with an anti-convulsion medication and the other filled with simple fluids. The machines beeped and there was a slight hiss of air from the canula, but there was no other sound in the room.

Nothing to tell him that Sam had going to be okay.

Dean sucked in a deep breath and set his hand down beside Sam's on the bed and sat straighter in the chair, groaning when his back and neck creaked in protest. He pushed himself up from the chair drawing his arms over his head and leaning back in an arc, suppressing a moan of pleasure as his spine cracked and muscles loosened.

"Feel good?" A hoarse voice asked from the bed.

Dean turned to him so fast he was surprised he didn't get whiplash. It took only one long stride to pull himself up to the bed, settling a heavy hand on Sam's shoulder. "Sam." The name was no more than a hiss of breath, relief joining the worry that had lined his face since the whole mess with Sam's powers had began.

"What happened?" Sam asked, coughing harshly against his dry mouth and throat as he finished.

Dean didn't answer right away, going for the cup and pitcher of water on the table beside Sam's bed. Sam looked at him with grateful eyes as he handed him the cup, and sipped the water with a look of complete satisfaction lining every inch of his face.

Dean laughed before finally answering Sam's question, his expression growing more serious and concerned with every word spoken.

"You had another power burst, Sam, and this time it was bad," he took a deep breath before adding, "_really_ bad." Sam still looked confused, not remembering anything that had happened after he had fallen asleep on the couch.

"You had a- a _nightmare_, or something, and when I went to wake you up, you just shot up. Next thing I know you jerk and send an umbrella into the TV, and you're falling with your hands fisted in your hair, blood running from your nose and ears." Dean's eyes took on a wild glaze as he talked and Sam pushed himself to sit higher in the bed, linking a hand around his brother's wrist.

"Sorry," Dean breathed, looking down at the strong hand clasped around his wrist. The single gesture calmed him down, giving him a link to Sam, telling him that his brother was alive and awake, healthy enough to be talking to him.

"It's okay." Simple words, with no criticism or blaming in them.

"But it _wasn't_." Dean stressed, pleading eyes locking with Sam's, going on before Sam could stop him. "You're eyes were rolling and you weren't breathing right, and you were all tense. Before I knew what to do, you were having a full out seizure in my arms, your head smacking back into my nose."

_That explained the black eyes._ Sam thought to himself, not daring to voice the thought out loud.

"God Sam, you kept convulsing, and when I tried to get you into the recovery position on the floor, you smacked your head on the table-" He cut off, looking at Sam and trying to reign in emotions that threatened to drown him.

"You were just-" he breathed and dropped his head, "there was nothing I could do." He finished, looking for all the world like he was ashamed to admit that fact. For all Sam knew he was, because Dean was his big brother, his _protector_, and Dean took that job seriously.

"Dean, it's okay, there was nothing you _could_ have done." Sam squeezed Dean's wrist tighter, willing the older man to believe him. "We'll figure this out." He said simply, again willing Dean to just believe him.

"Yeah," Dean didn't look so sure of his answer, and definitely not of what Sam was saying.

"It'll be okay." _I hope._

XXXX

Wow, so this chapter was probably crap, considering I just got my computer back and got the internet working today at like five, and wrote this chapter in under an hour… Yeah sorry if it is crap.

Anyway…

Take care,

DS


	14. Chapter 14

Hey guys…

Migraine has been tearing me down for a few days, sorry about the lateness of this, I mean to get these chapters up once a week, and the migraine just knocked me right on my ass. (Kind of freaked my roommate out.) I went to the doc, and he gave me this heavy duty stuff… and wow, it's finally starting to go away, so I'm writing this while I can still see straight, and then I'm going to class and bed.

And since, people tell you to write what you know or from personal experience, and I knew I could work this into the story- sorry Sammy, it's pain time.

I actually think it's kind of funny, but this first scene is exactly what I've been doing, except I wasn't in the hospital, just my normal dorm room, and I was searching for quote, 'Ways to throw a monster headache out on its ass.' I was surprised; there really weren't any hits to it… I bet the boys could exorcize it or something, but…

Anyway…: D

Enjoy.

XXXX

'_And on I read  
Until the day was gone  
And I sat in regret  
Of all the things I've done  
For all that I've blessed  
And all that I've wronged  
In dreams until my death  
I will wander on'_

Like a Stone - Audioslave

XXXX

Sam sighed to himself, rubbing a tired hand over his eyes, and pulling one of the ear phones from his ear. He reached over and poured a cup of lukewarm water, downing it quickly before pouring another and drinking half, before setting the cup back down on the small table beside him.

A snore split all other sounds in the hospital room as the eldest Winchester snorted and tried to snuggle into the uncomfortable hospital chair he had fallen asleep in. It was a testament to just how tired the young man was that he had actually fallen asleep while Sam was in the hospital, let alone in the torture device the hospital called a chair.

Sam smiled to himself, while unconsciously rubbing his aching head, as he watched Dean, no little concern for the older man lining that smile, as he put the ear phone back in his ear and turned back to the computer on his lap.

Scrolling down the lists of references for '_Bursts of psychic energy'_ Sam sighed and scrubbed a weary hand over his face. It had done him no good to search the internet for the last few hours, only serving to take his mind off Dean, and to worsen his ever steady headache.

Add to that the fact that the screen had been blurring for the last little bit, little flashes of light dancing around the screen and his vision.

He minimized the search and pulled up his iTunes, looking for something that would be enough to block out Dean's snores while at the same time lull him into sleep. _Placebo_ seemed an obvious choice and he put it on low and leaned his head back, hating that he couldn't lie on his stomach in the small hospital issue bed.

Settling for setting the computer on the small rolling table, Sam turned on his side and prayed for sleep, hoping it would take his pounding headache with it.

XXXX

Somewhere along the way he must have dozed off. When the room phone next to him rang, he jumped, groaning as the sudden movement sent spikes of pain behind his eyes. Next to him, Dean shot up out of the chair, and through his tightly squeezed eyes and the blood pounding behind his ears, he could hear Dean murmuring to whoever was on the other end of the line.

A heavy hand settled on his shoulder, squeezing when Sam turned and slit his eyes open for a brief moment to look at Dean before closing them again against the pain. The hand squeezed his shoulder again before the weight lifted and Sam felt the vibrations as Dean walked toward the door. A minute later the light shining through his lids dimmed and Sam groaned in relief, sinking back against the bed.

As he walked back towards the bed, Dean's footsteps seemed to echo through the room, vibrating shafts of pain through his already pounding brain. Sam choked back a whimper and tried to turn and curl up on his side, knowing the feel of a migraine when it hit him.

He heard Dean set the phone down in its cradle beside him and he flinched at the harsh _'click'_ as it dropped into place. A warm calloused hand settled on the back of his neck, the weight a comfort through the pain that seemed to want to break him.

He idly wondered what would happen if demon found out how effectively a migraine could take you down and break you apart. Would it be a new torture technique? A new weakness to wait for and exploit?

"I'm gonna call the doctor and see if he can get you something for your head." Dean whispered, obviously having figured out the severity of the pain in his head. Still the small sound seemed to scream at him, and he curled tighter, feeling nausea threaten to overpower him.

Sam had gotten migraines when he was younger; something his father had told him his mother had had since she was a child. It usually happened when he had read or studied too much, finals never being a good time of year for him. But he hadn't gotten one since Dean had picked him up from Stanford.

_Exorcizing a powerful demon with you mind'll do that to yah_, he guessed.

A few moments later a loud knock sounded and a loud cheery voice asked, "What can I help you with?" Sam choked on a sob and gagged. He felt Dean uncurl him a little and pull him to the side of the bed, setting a basin in front of him just before he heaved, throwing up what little he had eaten in the past few days.

Threw his gags and tears, he heard the nurses hurried footsteps as she walked quickly from the room, presumably to get a doctor. Each step and the sound of the door clicking shut seemed to stab at him. Bright yellow flashed threw his mind, bringing waves of pain with it and he heaved again, bring up nothing but bile, everything else already dispelled.

The force of the heaves worsened the pain, but he couldn't stop, it was like a never ending cycle of pain bringing heaves, bringing pain. He whimpered and curled his hand into Dean's shirt, pressing his head into the older man's stomach, seeking comfort from the familiar smell and touch.

Dean's hand settled high on the back of Sam's neck and his thumb stroked back sweaty strands at the base of his hairline. The motion was soothing, but the pain lingered over the comfort, distorting it until he didn't know whether it was helping or hurting him. He just clung harder to Dean, and the older man gently squeezed his neck.

A soft '_click'_ sounded as the door opened again and Sam pushed himself further into Dean with a breathless moan. Soft steps thudded as someone headed toward the other side of the bed, and a soft voice asked, "_Migraine?_" The voice shots daggers through him and he fought against the nausea that threatened to overflow.

Dean must have nodded because the doctor made a soft sound of affirmation and from the scratching sound he must have written something down in his chart. "_History?"_ The voice asked softly.

"_Yeah, when he was younger and through college._" Sam didn't even bother to ask how Dean had known he'd had them through college, he knew his brother better than that.

The doctor scratched something else down on his chart before saying, _"I'm going to prescribe a Triptan and something to help with the nausea._" Soft steps echoed through his head as the doctor headed to the door, and Sam twisted the fabric in his hand harder.

Dean didn't make a sound, he only rubbed Sam's neck, letting the younger man know that he was there and he wouldn't leave. Though it did nothing to relieve the pain, it was enough for Sam.

A few moments later someone came back in the room and Sam flinched as the sound of the door and the person's footsteps sliced through him. He felt Dean's other hand settle on his shoulder and his arm was jostled. A warm feeling spread through his arm, and he figured the doctor or nurse that had came in had put whatever they had been talking to Dean about in the IV.

"_There are some side effects with the Triptans…"_ The doctor started, but Dean cut him off before he could finish.

"_Yeah, nausea, dizziness, muscle weakness, and sometimes heart attack or stroke; I know." _Dean said softly, and Sam wondered how Dean had remembered that from all those years ago. He didn't push the issue, waiting instead for the drugs to kick in and give him relief from the pain that spiked through him.

The doctor left a few moments later, but Dean stayed standing there with Sam, one hand on his shoulder and the other resting on his neck. Sam kept his head to Dean's stomach, his hand wound in his shirt, keeping his brother close to him.

It took almost forty minutes, but the medication did kick in and Sam slumped into sleep in that position, feeling safe and protected by his older brother for the first time since he had gotten the older man back.

TBC

XXXX

A/N: You know, my older brother's like Dean too, an insufferable jerk at times, but he's there when I need him, so I know how Sam feels. He did come out this weekend too, and he helped me with my migraine, I just wanted to do that for Sam- heaven knows season 4 needs it.

Take care,

DS

ME. BED. NOW. (Or at least after class.)


	15. Chapter 15

Okay, so I'm gonna be honest. I may have to admit that two hours of sleep and three pots of coffee wasn't such a good idea. Between the trips to the bathroom and being off the wall in one class and drifting in another- yeah, maybe not the brightest idea I've ever had.

But… it did get me writing this chapter, during work- Shh, don't tell my boss- and during class- it was a boring lecture anyway- so it gets to you guys fast and you finally get to see Missouri's plan to help Sam! (Not to mention much needed brother time for Sam and Dean.)

So anyway, here's chapter 15 (wow, you don't hear me say that a lot, my longest Supernatural fic thus far was only 12 chapters, and… there's still a few more chapters left in this storyline.)

Hope you enjoy!!

XXXX

'_Just One more moment, that's all that's needed.  
Like wounded soldiers in need of healing.  
Time to be honest, this time I'm bleeding  
Please don't dwell on it, cause I didn't mean it_

I cant believe I said I'd lay our love on the ground  
But it doesn't matter cause I've made it up forgive me now  
Everyday I spend away my souls inside out  
Gotta be someway that I can make it up to you now, somehow.'

I'd Come For You - Nickelback

XXXX

**Chapter 15:**

Dean watched Sam sleep, the uncomfortable plastic hospital chair angled toward the door, ready to jump up and protect his brother from anyone who might want to come in and hurt him. It was weird to have all these protective urges slam back into him once again, urges he hadn't really felt and relied on since before he had died.

Before he had gone to Hell, and everything else had followed.

Resisting the urge to sigh, Dean ground the heels of his hand into his eyes and resettled his gaze and his attention on Sam. The younger man had fallen asleep against Dean with the help of the medication the doctor had given him earlier, and had stayed loosely curled in a ball on his side facing Dean since then.

Pain still curved his mouth downward and crinkled the edges of his eyes, even in sleep. Dean reached out a gentle hand and smoothed the crease in his forehead, hating himself a little when Sam leaned into the touch as if he were starved for attention- which Dean had to admit, he might be.

Since he had gotten back, aside from the initial hug, Dean had avoided most physical contact with anyone, Sam included.

There had been no knocks to his shoulder.

No brush of knees when they sat beside each other.

No gentle squeeze on the back of his neck.

Thinking over all of the things he hadn't done in the months since he had been back, and add to that the time he had been dead… Dean was appalled to realize that for the last half year, Sam had basically been alone and neglected.

Groaning as his own headache threatened, Dean forced himself to clear his mind and take stock of their situation. Looking down to where Sam had traded Dean's shirt for his hand, Dean focused on their entwined fingers and forced himself to acknowledge the fact that Sam was there, that he had alive and okay. _If only for the moment._

Sam _was _pale, but he did have more color than he had before, when the seizure and migraine had still be fresh. He was breathing easier than he had been before, and with his color stronger, the bruise on his face was quite as stark. That fact in itself was a major relief for Dean. The older brother had never been able to handle seeing Sam hurt or in any kind of pain, and the times where he wasn't able to do anything about it…

Dean didn't like it when all he could do was sit on the sidelines, while _others_ figured out what was wrong and helped Sam.

A soft 'rapp' sounded at the door, drawing Dean from his musings, and he tensed, his free hand white knuckling itself on the chair's armrest. The door pushed open, a liver of light falling through the room, coming to rest on Sam's face, causing the younger man to whimper and turn away, curling tighter around himself and Dean's hand. Dean growled low in his throat and stood, trying to see who was on the other side of the door and tell them to, "Shut the damn door."

"Dean Winchester, you watch your tone with me!" Missouri's hushed voice came from behind the door, as the woman stepped in the room. Dean's eyes widened and he relaxed, standing closer to Sam to shield him from the light not a threat, as Missouri turned to shut the door.

"Sorry," he whispered hoarsely to her, curling his fingers tighter around Sam's, as the younger an once again whimpered at the sound of the door shutting.

"That's alright honey," she said quietly, walking around to the stand on the other side of Sam's bed. "You poor boy," she said softly, reaching out a hand and placing it gently on Sam's side, as he slowly relaxed under Dean's watch.

"So" Dean started after a few minutes, staring at her hard, "What've you got?"

XXXX

"So," Sam said hoarsely, a few hours later, his migraine dulled to a harsh headache, "I'm supposed to just sit there, while you poke around in my head, and basically plant the equivalent of a psychic bomb in my head?" He asked incredulously, his gaze flicking back and forth between Missouri and Dean, and widening impossibly when he saw Dean nodding as if to agree with the idea.

"C'mon Sammy," Dean said with a forced grin, even though the older man was doing a crap job at hiding his worry, "It'll be fun, like fireworks behind your eyes."

_More like a meltdown behind my eyes,_ Sam thought sarcastically.

"Yeah, it'll be fun." He stated blandly, not even caring that Missouri could hear his thoughts, it'd be a good wake up call for the woman.

"Samuel Winchester, you stop that right now!" She said chidingly, he hands on her hips, disapproval clear on her face and in her tone, "I wouldn't do anything that I thought would hurt you," she said, her tone softer as she read deeper, and saw Sam's very real fear.

"Yeah," he breathed, agreeing with her, knowing in his head that she was telling the truth. She had been helping his family for a long time, and she had wanted any one of them hurt, she would have done it long before then. "Fine." He relented after a few minutes, "when are we gonna do this?" He asked instead with a heavy sigh.

"I want you to get some rest before we even try this, and I also want to make sure that migraine of your's is well and truly gone," Missouri said, shaking her head and holding up a hand to him when Sam went to interrupt, "Migraines cause pain and potential harm to psychics while they're in other's minds, and what we're doing is risky enough without that potential roadblock."

"Okay," Sam agreed, nodding as he motioned for her to continue.

"Dean said the doctor was going to discharge you in the morning, so if you get some sleep, and make sure you eat, we should be able to try this out as early as tomorrow afternoon." She said thoughtfully, nodding to herself before focusing her gaze on Sam and Dean once again.

Sam looked to Dean for his agreement on the time and the idea, a silent conversation taking place with only a few exchanged looks, before he nodded to himself and her.

"Okay," he breathed. "Let's do this."

XXXX

A/N: There yah go, a nice bonus chapter for this week! And on a Thursday no less!

By the way, does it bother anyone else that Sam is now addicted to demon blood in the show?? I mean I can get over them making him sleep with Ruby, but the whole drinking demon blood thing…

Anyway, please review.

Take care

DS


	16. Chapter 16

HOLY SH--!!!!! I swear I just died! I went to see Fast & Furious 4 last night, the one small joy I was going to allow myself this weekend, because I have so many tests and papers coming up, it's not funny.

Number 4 was beyond amazing, and it were a race, I would say it may have even nudged itself in front of the first one by a smidge, or at least tied. I am so glad I went! I was so intent on the screen and so involved, I think I may have scared my roommate and the guys that went with us.

One thing's for sure though… I will be getting back into FATF fic, I may not post it on here, just on my livejournal, but if you like those movies, check out my page, I will list the link on my author's page.

GO SEE THE MOVIE!! You won't regret it.

Oh and here's chapter 16. =-cough-= Enjoy.

XXXX

'_Surround me, it's easy, to fall apart completely  
I feel you creeping up again (In my Head)  
It's over, no longer, I feel it going colder  
I knew this day would come to end, so let this life begin'_

Until the End - Breaking Benjamin

XXXX

**LAST TIME**

"_So," Sam said hoarsely, a few hours later, his migraine dulled to a harsh headache, "I'm supposed to just sit there, while you poke around in my head, and basically plant the equivalent of a psychic bomb in my head?" He asked incredulously, his gaze flicking back and forth between Missouri and Dean, and widening impossibly when he saw Dean nodding as if to agree with the idea. _

XXXX

Sam fidgeted as he sat in a wheelchair in front of the nurse's station located just after the entrance to the PCU and then to the doors outside. He had been sitting there for a few minutes, waiting for the nurses to get the call that Dean was parked in the ring outside the entrance, so they could wheel Sam out to meet him.

Sam had never liked hospitals, and sitting so close to the entrance without being able to leave was setting him on edge. Hospitals represented fear, hurt, and death to him; to any hunter; and Sam had always found himself anxious when he was in one, especially when he wasn't the one who was injured. When he wasn't injured, it meant Dean or his father was, and neither of those were acceptable situations.

The last time he had been in a hospital had been when his father had died, and he didn't like lingering on the memory of finding his father splayed on the floor, any longer than he had to.

The desk phone ringing brought Sam's attention back to the present and he found himself crossing his fingers in hope that it was Dean. He looked over to see a small middle aged nurse looking back at him and nodding as she spoke softly into the phone. From the set of her lips, turned up into a faint smile, Sam knew it was a distinct possibility.

When she hung up and nodded at him, telling a younger nurse to wheel him outside to meet Dean, Sam had to suppress the urge to shove a fist in the air and whoop for joy. He settled for a deeply dimpled smile instead, making the young nurse wheeling him, giggle in return.

"You ready to blow this place?" Dean asked as soon as Sam had been wheeled through the entrance, walking around the car and opening the passenger side before he walked over to Sam.

"You have no idea." Sam mumbled, but Dean heard every word, and felt exactly the same as his little brother. Hospitals were only for necessity, a place that no hunter (no _Winchester_) ever wanted to be stuck in.

Dean grinned at Sam and pulled his brother's arm over his shoulders, hauling him up out of the chair and winding an arm around his back. Slowly they made their way to the car, Sam panting through his nose as Dean lowered him gently into the passenger seat.

He hated being weak. Hated not being able to prove himself the Winchester he was, and though he knew that Dean didn't see the weakness as a, well _weakness_ when he had just been released from the hospital, Sam didn't like it at all.

Groaning he leaned back against the familiar leather and sighed, breathing in the scent of the Impala and relaxing for the first time since he had woken up. When Dean opened the driver side door the last remaining tension in his shoulder's disappeared and Sam drifted, trusting that his brother wouldn't let anything happen to him.

XXXX

Dean watched Sam out of the corner of his eye, while he drove. Sam had almost been asleep by the time Dean had slid in and started the car, and watching the younger man completely relaxed and at ease was a nice sight.

As he pulled into Missouri's driveway, he sighed, not wanting to wake his little brother up, but knowing that it was a necessary evil, knowing that Sam wanted to get this whole thing over with as soon as possible. Leaving him locked in the car all afternoon wouldn't be doing anyone any favors.

Shutting off the engine, Dean regretfully reached over and shook Sam gently. The younger man groaned and shifted, settling deeper in the seat, before going still again. Dean laughed and tried again, shaking a little harder this time, receiving a groan and a "What the hell?" from a voice laden with sleep.

"We're here dude, time to wake your tired ass up." Dean grinned, noting Sam's sleepy appearance as his brother lifted his head and looked around in confusion, before his brain kicked in and he nodded.

"Yeah, okay." Sam mumbled off handedly, and Dean got the feeling that Sam still wasn't completely awake. There was still a slight sheen in Sam's eyes, the kind that could only come from strong drugs or tiredness, and at the moment, Dean didn't know which was the culprit, or if both played a role.

He smirked, and got out of the car, walking around to Sam's side, and opening the door for the younger man before reaching in to pull him up. Sam sank against him, as Dean shut the door and guided him toward the front door, intent on getting him to lie down for a little bit, while the drugs finished working their way from his system.

He steered Sam through the kitchen and into the living room, ignoring Missouri's inquiries, settling Sam on the couch and pushing him down and back against the pillows. Sam was out as soon as he was flat, lines smoothing from his face.

Dean stood and scrubbed a hand over his face, noticing for the first time that everything in the room had been fixed since Sam had been taken to the hospital. It no longer resembled a room where a bomb had gone off, and for that Dean was grateful. He knew that he was going to offer Missouri some money or some kind of compensation for all the damage that had been done, though.

"Nonsense, boy. It was no one's fault, therefore, no one will pay for it." Missouri said softly from behind him, and when Dean turned to look at her, she was looking at Sam, a small smile lining her features.

Before he could even think to argue with her, she was there, resting a hand on his shoulder. "If you really want to do something, just make sure you're brother's taken care of," Dean nodded, _like that was any different from what he always did. _"-_and _there might be a small hole in the roof over my bedroom." Her smile widened, and Dean laughed.

"Yeah, sure." He said after a few moments, and looked back at Sam, surprised the younger man hadn't woken with his outburst.

_Must be more tired than I thought._ Dean's forehead creased and he crouched down to settle a hand on Sam's chest, reassuring himself that his little brother was indeed okay, before standing again and draping a blanket over the still form.

"He'll be okay." Missouri said, again resting a hand on his shoulder, and Dean nodded.

"Yeah, he will." He said confidently, "If he's not, I'll resurrect that Yellow Eyed Son-of-a-bitch and make him pay."

TBC

XXXX

A/N: Probably not what you were expecting, but this story really isn't agreeing with my muse, I think she's boycotting or something. It's just not coming to me like it used to. I will finish this though, I'm just hoping that when all these tests, papers, and finals are done with, I'll get my groove back.

Still I'll keep updating, and I just hope you guys like this and stay with it.

Take care,

DS


	17. Chapter 17

Hey guys, guess what??? I fell out of bed this morning… And I do mean literally! My alarm went off, and I only had time to think, 'Oh shit, this is gonna hurt!' Then I hit the floor… Didn't feel so great, (Those fricken beds are so high off the floor, like five feet before you hit) but I twisted my knee enough to have to sit out the gym, so there was actually time to finish this chapter!!!

Yay for my clumsiness!! (I swear I trip over nothing, my roommate says it's really funny to watch though… )

Okay, anyway, here's chapter 17... Wow I'm really getting up in those chapter numbers huh?

Enjoy.

XXXX

'_Looking back I clearly see  
What it is that's killing me  
Through the eyes of one I know  
I see a vision once let go  
I had it all'_

Open Your Eyes - Alter Bridge

XXXX

"You sure this is gonna work?" Sam asked Missouri apprehensively. He gripped the armrests of the chair he was seated in, and swallowed hard, not knowing if he really wanted to know the answer.

"No." Missouri said simply, and Sam gawked at her. "But," she added with a stern voice, "this _is_ your best chance, and without us even trying it, your chances of living past the end of the week are slim to none." Sam paled and nodded, knowing that even if he didn't want to take the chance, there was really no other option.

"Okay," he nodded, trying to force his white knuckled grip to loosen on the chair.

"It'll be okay Sam," Dean said softly from where he was standing propped against the sink behind him. He stepped forward and dropped a steadying hand on Sam shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly when he found all the muscles tense in his grip.

_You're only so sure, because you're not the one that's going to have the psychic equivalent of a 'Nuke' implanted in his brain._ Sam thought spitefully, instantly regretting it when he thought of everything Dean had gone through to get the both of them to where they were today.

He looked up and saw Missouri nodding, and knew without a doubt that the older woman had been reading his thoughts.

'_Poor boy._' The thought floated into his mind, Missouri's voice attached to it, and Sam's eyes widened, startled.

Missouri's eyes locked onto his, and narrowed, her lips pursing as she studied him. Her eyes tightened as she read what he had done, unconsciously or not, before she tersely shook her head.

"We have to start now," she said lowly, seeing bright flashes starting to beat at Sam. The mind reading had just been the start of the next onslaught of psychic power, and she didn't know if Sam was strong enough to handle another attack.

A sharp indrawn breath made her look up at Dean, who although was behind this plan wasn't especially happy with everything that was about to happen. _But_ she told herself, _it has to be done or Sam'll die._

She saw Sam's face pale, and knew instinctively that the younger man had heard that thought as well. She smiled sadly at him, and raised her hands off her lap to rest them on the table. She turned her palms upward and looked pointedly at Sam, who hesitantly raised his own arms and placed his hands in hers.

She curled her fingers around his bigger ones, and closed her eyes, giving him no other warning than the tightening of her hands around his, before she was pushing into his mind.

She heard Sam moan both in his mind and outside. She felt Dean's surge of protective energy at the small sound and was both pleased and a little hurt by it. She would never hurt Sam, and she had never given either man reason to think otherwise.

Pushing past her own feelings, she wove her way through Sam's mind, opting around walls and memories, searching for the locked wall that was holding him back. The wall that was hurting him, and that would kill him if it was allowed to stay.

Flashes of Dean and Sam throughout his life kept wafting their way through her as she dug deeper into the recesses of Sam's mind. She found herself alternately smiling and frowning as the memories swept through her, depending on what the situation or memory itself called for.

Finally as she was digging through the fire and death of Jessica and the pain it brought Sam, she found the wall. The place seemed about right, set right about the time that Sam had come into his abilities.

The wall itself was like a barricade, padlocked and chained so it held through anything. It looked thick, and Missouri found herself doubting her own talents, before squashing those thoughts down, and looking the wall over.

She searched for any weakness the fortress might hold, intending to set off the 'bomb' as Sam so liked to call it, in the place where it would do the most damage. Where it would tear the wall down faster and easier, so she could spare Sam any pain, and lessen the risk of damaging his mind.

She felt tension start to roll through Sam in waves, anxious thoughts beating at him as more time passed, and she looked harder. Finally, finding a crack where Sam's powers had been leaking through, she planted what looked like a pipe bomb of her own psychic energy in the wall.

She turned to leave just as flashes and walls of color started to beat at her, to beat at Sam. She threw herself clear of his mind just as his whole body pulled taught, an his eyes rolled back. His neck pulled back, tense, and his back bowed against the onslaught. She reached back in and set the 'bomb' off, pulling back just as quickly to watch Sam jerk harshly twice before going pliant and still under Dean's hands.

The older man looked alarmed, dropping to his knees and catching Sam as he started to slide off the chair. A thin trickle of blood made its way over his top lip, and down his chin, but it stopped as quickly as it had started, and Sam moaned, twitching in Dean's grip.

"Sammy?" The concern was clear in Dean's voice, but the relief could be heard just as easily.

"De'?" Sam asked, the groaned and opened his eyes. His gaze immediately sought out Dean's, locking with the older brother, a full communication done using just his eyes.

"Yeah, you're okay?" Dean asked, his eyes swinging between the younger man and Missouri asking both of them the question.

"I dunno," Sam breathed, looking up at Missouri, "Did it work?" He asked, excitement and fear mingled into a new tone.

"I think it _did_." Missouri said with a soft smile, holding out her hand to the younger psychic once more.

Sam nodded and took the hand with an eager smile. Missouri was instantly allowed access to his mind, and seeking out the wall, she saw it lay in shambles, resembling nothing more than a pile of rocks. She pulled out and nodded at him.

"It worked." She said with a smile and a nod to herself.

"Awesome." Sam breathed. _Not as bad as I thought it was gonna be._ He added mentally.

_Not as bad as _any_ of us thought it was going to be._ Missouri added in her own mind.

Sam's head swiveled back to her, and she knew that he was still hearing her thoughts. "But-" Sam cut himself off, waving his hands in a weak imitation of a flailing man drowning. He frowned to himself before asking, "Is this going to be a permanent thing?"

_What?_

_Yes._

Both voices hit him at once in his mind, and he pulled back, taking a deep breath before looking at both Dean and Missouri. "Okay this is just weird." Dean looked at him like he was losing his mind, and Missouri smiled at him knowingly.

_What the hell is going on?_ Dean.

"I can hear your thoughts, big brother, that's what's going on."

Dean gaped.

XXXX

A/N: OMG!! I loved this chapter… Tell me what you think. Although I wonder if I would even be mad at myself if someone said they hated this chapter…

The ending was so much fun to write!!!

Take care,

DS


	18. Epilogue

Hey guys!! I thought there was going to be another chapter or two before the epilogue, but looking over and rereading everything made me see that this was a good place to end this… It's also a good time for me to end it, because with finals and everything soon, I won't have as much time as I'd like to spend on this story.

So here it is, the end of 'We Are Broken.'

I hope you all enjoy!

XXXX

'_And all the roads we have to walk are winding  
And all the lights that lead us there are blinding  
There are many things that I would  
Like to say to you  
But I don't know how_

Because maybe  
You're gonna be the one that saves me'

Wonderwall – Oasis

XXXX

"Can't you do something to _train_ him or something?" Dean asked three days after Missouri had fixed Sam's mind, and opened the floodgates to his brother's powers at the same time.

He was tired of having his thoughts answered or thrown back at him, and looking over at Sam he could tell the younger man was tired of hearing all his thoughts.

"I already told you, that Sam has to figure out his own method to block out thoughts and feelings. My way won't help him, it's different for every psychic. Our powers may be similar, but we're all different, and what works for one of us probably won't work for another one." Missouri said with a sigh, looking over at the exasperated young man across the kitchen from her.

"Yeah, well I wish he would figure it out soon." Dean said with a scowl. "It's getting old, him knowing my every thought." He said, not a little childishly.

"And you think that Sam really wants to know your every thought?" Missouri asked, eyebrows raised. "This is just as hard, if not harder on Sam. He's getting used to his new abilities, and right now he doesn't have the control over them he wants to have, and you're throwing that in his face." She scolded.

Dean opened his mouth to reply, but he had nothing to say to that.

"You need to pull your head out of your behind and start thinking as a big brother again." She said and with a shake of her head, she walked away.

XXXX

_That's really freaky._ Dean thought to himself later that day, looking over at Sam as if studying the younger man.

"M'not a freak, Dean." Sam answered with a sigh, not even realizing that Dean hadn't actually put voice to the thought.

"Getting annoying Sam." _Getting annoying Sam._ The sentence was said aloud and an answering echo resounded through his head, and Sam let out a deep breath, reaching up to rub his aching temples.

"Tell me about it," Sam muttered and stood. Dean turned around and looked up at him, "I'm gonna go lay down for a little while, maybe take something for my head." He answered the unasked question truthfully, knowing Dean wouldn't take kindly to lies or half-truths at the moment.

"You okay?" The older man asked quietly, looking as if he was fighting against the urge to jump up and check Sam over.

"Yeah, _just_ a headache." Sam answered simply, watching as the rigid line of Dean's shoulders eased, and his mind supplied the feeling of relief. "Your thoughts are enough to give _anyone _a migraine." He added with a small quirk of lips, when it looked like Dean was going to get up and follow him.

"Hey!" Dean said, outraged, his look of relief turning to one of petulance. Sam could _hear_ him trying to think of a comeback, but it seemed that his older brother was coming up dry, and Sam shook his head and with a smirk headed toward the bedroom that had been designated to him.

Sitting heavily on the edge of the bed, Sam reached over and uncapped the Advil, popping two of the liquid gels into his mouth and swallowing them dry. Putting the container back on the side table, he kicked off his shoes and laid back against the pillows.

XXXX

That was how Dean found him twenty minutes later, asleep on top of the covers, snoring lightly, his face lined with a look of complete contentment.

It had been a long time since he had seen his brother so relaxed, and Dean wasn't about to take away that feeling. If his brother's new powers, and what had happened between them since this whole mess had started were helping Sam, he wasn't going to get in the way.

Dean had a feeling that Sam hadn't been this relaxed since before Dean had gone to Hell, and if he was being truthful with himself, he could put some (_a lot)_ of the blame for that on his own shoulders.

He hadn't been the big brother he should have been for a long time, now. He had seen how Sam had craved that touch, those comforting words, and that it took something this big for him to see that? Dean knew he had to start stepping up his game as big brother.

But he had time now.

He wasn't going to shirk his duties again.

XXXX

A/N: And my one-shot that turned into a monster is done!!! *headdesk* Thank you! Although I'm a little sad that it's over… This has been my pet since… well it's been my pet for a long time.

Thanks to everyone that stuck with me through this. Your encouragement really helped!

Now sendintheclowns and I have to go and plot for the next fic… *evil grin* Poor Sammy is never safe.

Take care,

DS


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